"^^^^^^^ 



AUTBOR'S COPY. 






THE 



PHONOGRAPH 



witnp:ss. 



A DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS. 



^ 



Note. — This work is printed solely for the author's private use. Under 
the decisions of the courts which establish that such printing does not con- 
stitute publication, all rights are strictly reserved, and any infringement upon 
the title, dialogue, situations, .-cenic efTects or sequenc e of incidents, will be 
prosecuted to the extent of the law. 



1883. 




Entered According to Act of Congress, in the year 1882, 
By George W. Hill >'7yV'' 
In the Office of the Librarian of Cong^jess. at Washington. 






%^ 



Yhe Phonograph Witnes 



s, 



DRAxMA riS PERSONS. 



RICHARD COURTXEY. 
RICHARD FELLOWS, 
JACK FROST. 
JIM BUCKSTONE. 
MR. SETTIMUP. 
DR. SARGENT. 



EDWARD LEE. 
MERTON COURTNEY. 
LUTHER TENNIEL. 
THE JUDGE. 

PROSECUTING ATTORNEY. 
ATTORNEY FOR DEFENSE. 



HELEN TENNIEL. 
DAISY TEMPLE, 
MRS. TENNIEL. 



Copyright, 1882. by Geo. Wm. Hill. 




The Phonograph Witness. 



[The scene is laid in the beginning of the 20th century, afford- 
inf an opportunity, if desired, to introduce the costumes of the 
future.] 



ACT I. 

Scene the Billiard Room in Mr. Tenniel's house. Table a little to the 
right, not obstructing view in center back of opening into hall. One slairgoing 
up and one down.j On the left of stage is a lounge or divan, a fire-place, and 
at extreme left front, a small ottoman. Daisy Temple and H^len Tenniel 
are discovered playing a game of billiards. 

Daisy. That makes three games running. Pshaw ! what's 
the use of going abroad, if you can't learn to play a belter game 
than that? Come, swallow your pride, I'll discount you. (^Piays.) 

Helen. Very well ; I'm sorry I don't play better for your 
sake, Daisy. But you see, Papa did not take me abroad to learn 

billiards. {Plays.) ^ „r n t * „ 

Daisy. No, that wasnt his game, was it dear? Well. I tell 
you what I should have done had I been in your shoes. I should 
have carried on so outrageously with some foreign titled scamp 
that he would have been thankful enough to bring me home to 
marry Edward Lee, or any other respectable American, 

Helen. There were two serious objections to that. It's your 
play, dear. One was, that I don't really know how to carry on, 
and the next that I did not meet any foreign titled scamp. 
(Daisy, ivho has played, marks her score.) 

Daisy. No titled scamp? and you spent three months in 
Paris. " Mot7g Dioo !" as Jack's mother says. ''Ate eel possible." 
Why, to judge by the letters of " Our Own Correspondent," there 
is a perfect shoal of titled good-for-nothings over there, on the 
lookout for eligible American girls, namely, American heiresses. 
Play, Helen. {Helen,who has bee7i pensively standing, leaning on 
her cue, plays, striking Dais f shall instead of her own.) 

Daisy. Oh ! you simpleton. Helen, my dear, I'm alarmed 
for you. You are so awfully in love. 

COPYRIGHT 1882, BY GEO. \frM. HILL. 



t 



ACT I.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. J 

Helen. And are not you, Daisy? 

Daisy {laughs). What, I in love with Jack? Oh ! you dear goose, 
what an idea ; how could I be, when we've scarcely seen each 
other for years — hardly at all since Mr. Frost's death, after which 
they left Eldridge. And though I spend a part of every year with 
Mrs. Frost, you know Jack has been abroad nearly two years. 

Helen. But still you are engaged to him, dear, and — 

Daisy. I'm not to blame for that. You must speak to my 
worthy guardian aud Madam Frost about that. 

Helen. Daisy, I'm alarmed for yott. You ought really to 
look at the matter seriously. If you do not love Mr. Frost, I 
think you ought to tell him so, and break it off at once. 

Daisy. I can't. I'm not of age, and my guardian prefers me 
to remain engaged. 

Helen. But, Daisy, dear, I am sure Mr. Courtney would be 
the first to wish this broken off, if he thought you wished it. 

Daisy. Don't you believe it. You know he was executor or 
administrator, or something, for Jack's father, and somehow the 
property did not turn out very well, at least there was a good deal 
less than was expected, and Mrs. Frost was disposed, very un- 
justly I suppose, to blame Mr. Courtney. So to pacify her he agreed 
that I should marry Jack. You see I've got money — I don't 
know how much, but ever so much, and he is getting himself out 
of the well, on my shoulders {Straightens hefself up), so you see, 
— But then, as long as I'm only engaged to him, I don't care. 
{yumps up and seats herself on the billiard table.) 

Helen. What strange 

Daisy. Don't preach any more, dear. If I were not engaged 
to Jack I might have fallen in love with Edward myself. How 
are you going to manage to see the poor fellow ? 

Helen. Oh, dear ! I cannot think. I must see him alone. 
Papa has absolutely forbidden that. I did not get a chance at 
the ball. Daisy, you must try to arrange it. {Pitts her arm 
around her and leans her head ott her shoulder.) I might see him 
if you were there, I suppose, and you know we should not mind 
you. 

Daisy. Oh ! No — {Enter Mrs. Tenniel.) 

Mrs. Tenniel. Daisy, Mr. Frost is in the parlor ; you must 
go down and see him, dear. {Daisy pouts.) Yes, dear, you 
must, and {as Daisy is about to leave the roo77i) you had better ask 
him to remain to dinner. 

Daisy. Thank you, aunt. You come, too, Helen. {Exit. 
Goes down stairs at back) 

Mrs. Tenniel. Helen, dear, I am sorry to say Edward Lee 
has called with Mr. Frost. It is most embarrassing, and I know 
your father will be very much annoyed. 

Helen. Do you and papa intend to give up Edward entirely? 
He can doubtless see no reason why he should not come. He 
used to come to this house quite freely. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Yes, dear, I know ; but since this foolish en- 



SCENE I.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 5 

gagement, of course, — we must not be rude to him, and you must 
go to the parlor ; but I particularly request you will exercise the 
greatest discretion. 

Helen. Very well, mamma. Shall I ask Edward to remain 
to dinner. 

Mrs. Tenniel. My dear Helen, how can you. {Daisy, 
accompanied by yack and Edward, is seen coming up the s lairs at 
back.) 

Helen. I see Daisy has brought the gentlemen up here. 

{Mrs. Tenniel looks around. Enter Daisy, yack, and Edward 
Lee.) 

Daisy. Aunt. I've brought the gentlemen up-stairs. You did 
not tell me Edward was there. I hope I did right. 

Mrs. Tenniel {a little stiffly). Oh, certainly, my dear. 
{Helen goes fory^ard to greet them.) 

Daisy {to Mrs. Tenniel). You see, {maliciously) I knew you 
always made Edward at home here, and as long as Mr. Frost has 
the honor of being my intended {turning toward them) I thought 
you would want him to feel at home, too. 

Helen. Yes, indeed, Mr. Frost, you must feel quite at home 
here. You know Daisy regards this as her home altogether when 
she is in Eldridge. 

Daisy. And that's most of the time. 

Jack. I shall be charmed, I'm suah, to share such a charming 
privilege. 

{Daisy stays by Edxvard, moving with him to right ; Mrs. Ten- 
niel and Helen with yack Frost to left.) 

Daisy {aside to Edward). Now you had better flirt des- 
perately with me until Aunt Lizzie concludes it will be safe to 
leave us. You need not mind Jack. He don't care. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Will you sit down. Mr. Frost? {Seats herself 
on the ottoTJian, and motions him to sit beside her. Helen stands a 
moment as if in doubt.) 

Daisy {setting the balls). I have challenged Edward to a game 
with me, ladies ; so you must let Mr, Frost entertain you. 
{Plays, Edward turns his back to the other group and plays, 
Helen sits dozvn and addresses yack Frost, and Mrs. Tenniel looks 
at her watch.) 

Mrs. Tenniel {aside). Dear me, it's almost time for Mr. 
Tenniel to come home. What will he say if — . {Aloud.) Well, 
young people, I must ask you ,to excuse me. Mr. Frost, of 
course, you will remain to dinner with us. {Frost bows assent. 
Exit.) 

Daisy. Mr. Frost, you must come and play with me. Edward 
plays too strong a game for me. 

Edward {lays down cue). I fancy Mr. Frost plays better 
than I do. 

Daisy. Oh, no ! he's too lazy. 

Jack. No fellow could be very lazy and obey all your com- 
mands. {Rises slowly and prepares to play.) 

Daisy {runs over to Helen). Now, dear, I've done my best for 



I 



ACT I.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 7 

you, and you must make the most of it. {Turns and crosses to 
right, passing Edward, who is moving toward Helen) 

Edward (aside to Daisy). You're an angel, Daisy. 

Daisy. Not quite; but at present I am ever so much more 
useful. {Daisy Joins Jack at the billiard table and begins placing 
the balls. As Edzvard advances toward her Helen rises, and 
Edward at once begins the conversation.) 

Edward. Helen, I ventured to call to-day, because I knew 
no other way to make sure of seeing you, and I felt I must see 
you before leaving Eldridge. 

Helen. Leaving Eldridge, Edward? 

Edward. Yes, I was to-day discharged from the service of 
Tenniel & Courtney. 

W'E.U^^ {alarmed). Discharged, Edward ! On what grounds' 

Edward. On the very proper ground that I, being a poor 
devil of a clerk, declined to renounce my claim to the hand of my 
employer's daughter, until she told me with her own lips that 
such was her desire. {He takes her hand and looks into her face) 

Helen {raising her eyes to his). She never will tell you so 
Edward. ' 

Edward {earnestly). My darling, I knew you would be true 
to me; but, Helen, now, I must gwQ you up— just one moment — 
I never would be bribed or threatened into giving you up. but 
now it is my duty. I am almost penniless, and out of employ, 
ment. You can easily see that, beinj^: discharged, I can do noth- 
ing more here, unless I choose to make public the real cause, and 
thus drag you into it ; and that I shall never do. 

Helen. Listen, Edward. It seems hardly right for me to say 
what I am going to say, but I think the time has come for us to 
be perfectly frank. / will not give you up {zvith embarrassment, 
but positively). My father will never ask me to marry against my 
will. We are young yet — we can wait. 

Edward. Helen, you are too noble — too generous ! It is not 
right of me to change my purpose, and yet, under the influence 
of your love, my resolutions seem to melt away. {Turning, they 
walk slowly toward divan at back) 

Jack. That's a game ! but really, you don't play so badly, 
for a girl. 

Daisy. Thanks, "awfully." {Mimicki7tg hiju) You don't play 
so badly, for a swell. {Airs. Tenniel appears at the door) If we 
had not kissed twice, I'd have won. 

Mrs. Tenniel {looking amazed). Daisy, my dear child, how 
boldly you talk. You will horrify Mr. Frost {Daisy and Jack 
laugh)~h\x\. where— {stiffly) Oh ! I thought you and Mr. Lee 
were playing together. 

Daisy. So we were ; but Mr. Frost grew so attentive to Helen, 
I made him take Edward's place. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Helen, dear, I wish you would excuse your- 
self for a few minutes. Andrew has brought in the flowers, and 
you know your father thinks no one but you can arrange them. 



SCENE I.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 9 

Helen. Yes, mamma. {Daisy ttins to Mrs. Tenniel, with a 
look at Helen to not be too hasty, and half Uads, half pushes her 
out of the room, talking affectionately to her all the time, and fi- 
nally saying something at the door tvhich compels Mis. 'Jennie I to 
laugh; she turns and exit, shaking her finger at Daisy.) 

Daisy. Saved again ! Your mother excuses you, Miss T. 
I expect to pass a brilliant examination as a guardian. What 
would you poor spoons do without me ? 

Helen {leproichfully). Daisy! 

Daisy, Oh, you liitle innocence ! Do you suppose Mr. Frost 
thought you two were discussing the weather? Come, sir, play, 

Jack. I say — don't see why you call me Mr. Frost. You 
don't expect me to call you Miss Temple, do you? 

Daisy. Of course not. I always call you Jack, behind your 
back ; but you are such a prodigious swell, your presence over- 
awe- me. Play, Jack. 

{Helen and Edward advance do run toward left.) 

Helen. Edward, did any angry words pass between you and 
Papa to-day? 

Edward. Well — yes, your father was of course very angry ; 
but I tried to remember he was yoar father, dearest, and I can 
only think of one think that I regret saying, and that was when 
I told him he should rue this day. He evidently took it as a 
threat, though I did not mean it so. I alluded merely to the 
present complicated state of affairs in the Bank, which are really 
worse than he thinks, and that only /could help to straighten out. 

Helen. Yes, I am sorry you said that, for it does sound a 
little like a threat, and every word you said was taken down by 
an accurate though invisible, reporter. 

Edward. What ! wou d Mr. Tenniel stoop to — 

Helen. Let me explain. I learned, in a sort of accidental 
manner, that Uncle Dick has been converting Papa's private office 
into what he calls a Phonographic Chamber. He thinks he has 
succeeded in so far developing Edison's invention, that it can be 
made to reproduce all sounds taking place in a room not too 
large and indeed, he seems to have succeeded. 

Edward. Well ! I can not congratulate Uncle Dick on this 
new invention. 

Helen. I know papa did not want the experiment made in 
his room. He said it made him uncomfortable to feel that those 
about him were secretly reported in that way. But Uncle Dick 
needed a special kind of room, and he is so enthusiastic, papa 
finally consented, and that explains his having his workshop over 
papa's office. 

Edward. Well, Helen, I am sure that uncanny witness can 
report nothing of me that you will be ashamed of, dearest, and 
now I really must go. I have to go to the bank once more to get 
my traps together. 

H ELEN. That reminds me that papa told me to tell mamma he 
might not be home to dinner to-night. Will he be in the bank? 
Oh ! Edward. 



ACT I.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. IT 

Edward. I suppose so; but you need not be alarmed, darl- 
ing. I may not see him, and if 1 should, I shall think of you. 

Helen. Thank you, dearest Edward. {Helen stands with her 
eyes downcast. Edward kisses her hand and glances at Daisy and 
Jack. 

Daisy {turning towards them). What ! Edward, are you 
going ? 

Edward {sta7idinga little back and near Daisy ^ HeUn remain- 
ing where Edward left her). Yes, Daisy, and probably for a 
long time. I have left the bank and am going to New York to- 
night. 

Daisy. Left the bank? 

Edward {bitterly). That is, I am discharged. 

Daisy {looks inquiringly at Helen, and Edward nods assent). 
What a shame ! 

Edward. Good bye, Daisy. I never can thank you enough. 
{His voice breaks.) 

Daisy {with a little sob). Well, I suppose you must go. Ed- 
ward, do me a favor. Let me lend you some money. {Edward 
protests.) Please, Edward. I have lots, and you can pay me 
again when you have plenty. I'll make my precious guardians 
send you some. Edward {she takes his hand), you mttst. Good 
bye. {Holds up her cheek and he kisses it. As he starts to go, 
Helen, who has taken off one of her rings, looks up in tears. Daisy 
appears to drop sovieihing. 

Daisy. Oh ! Mr, Frost. Jack, dear, I have dropped my ring, 
and it has rolled under the table. Please help me find it. {Jack^ 
who is on the other side of the table., gets down to look for it, and 
Daisy gets doivn on this side, both locking on the floor, under the 
table. Edruard looks longingly at Helen, who /lies to him, and he 
folds her for a second to his breast, and their lips meet. As they 
separate, Helen puts her ring on his little finger^ 

Jack. I am afraid that ring is gone, Daisy. 

Daisy. Why, here it is. Of course you never would find it ; 
I had to find it myself. {They both get up from under the table, 
fack looking very red in the face. Euward steps up to him ana 
they shake hands. At the same moment, Mrs. Tennie I appears at 
the door at back with Richard Courtney.) 

Edward {turning towards Mrs. T., and simply bowing to 
Richard), Good by, Mrs. Tenniel. 

Mrs. Tenniel {putting out her hand). Good by, Mr. Lee. You 
are quite a stranger. Does business take you to New York 
again ? 

Edward. Yes ; for good this time. I have left the bank, 
Mrs. Tenniel. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Oh ! Edward. I am so sorry. {Edward 
exit.) I really do not know what Mr. Tenniel will do without 
him. I suppose this is one cause of his not being home yet. 

Helen. I forgot to tell you, mamma that papa sent you word 
not to wait dinner for him, as business might detain him in the 
city. 



SCENE I.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 13 

Mrs. Tenniel. Well then, we shall have dinner at the usual 
hour. Daisy, I wish you would help me to arrange the flowers. 
You know Mr. Tenniel thinks that no one can arrange them like 
you, dear. Mr. Frost, you can come with us if you like. I am 
sure you have good taste. Richard, will you excuse us? Helen 
will entertain you. {Richaid dews.) 

Richard {stopping Helen, as she is about to leave the room). 
Helen, may 1 have a few moments conversation with you ? Your 
mother has very kindly afforded me this opportunity. 

Helen. Certainly, Richard ; will you be seated? 

{A servant lights the gas in the hall, and enterin^^ the room, hesi- 
tates. At a motion from Helen, he proceeds to light a biacketjet on 
each side of the middle door, and one over the chivmey at left.) 

Richard. Helen, I think I need hardly tell you the object 
of my visit. You can not have been blind to my growing affec- 
tion for you. 'Tis true, I knew of Edward Lee's early attach- 
ment, but for some time, particularly when we were abroad, I had 
regarded it as a thing of the past ; but recently — in fact, quite 
lately — I, of course, have no right to speak to you about another's 
—Helen, darling, I love you dearly, devotedly— I desire only to 
consecrate my whole life to your happiness. I can remain in 
doubt as to your sentiments no longer. If you can give me some 
hope, I shall be more happy than 1 can express. If {he hesitates, 
his voice Jaliering)—\i you can not — then it is best I should learn 
the worst. {He takes her hand ; she does not uithdrazu it, but 
turns slightly away from him, as though reflecting; then, turning 
to him suddenly, and taking both his hanas in hers and looking 
frankly in his face, she speaks.) 

Helen. Richard, you have paid me a higher compliment than 
I deserve, and how can I express to you my sorrow that I can not 
accept it. Believe me, I never once imagined your regard dif- 
fered in kind or degree from my own. I never supposed that, 
in the untrammeled enjoyment of your society, I was leading 
you to a misapprehension of my feelings. I have always looked 
up to you and esteemed you as one of the best and noblest men 
I know, whose society was a privilege to a girl like me ; but your 
love I can only repay with my sincere admiration and friendship. 
Edward Lee — 

Richard. That will do, Helen. I appreciate. I assure you, 
your kind feelings toward me— but I have no right to — I had no 
intention of prying into a — 

Helen. It is not prying, Richard ; you have earned my entire 
confidence, and is it not, perhaps, best for both of us that 1 should 
be frank ? I am engaged to Edward. 

Richard. Well, so be it. I shall try to bear my disappoint- 
ment with manliness, at least ; but — you will, of course, excuse 
me to yourmother-and— Good-bye ! God bless you ! {She extends 
her hand to him, and he seizes it, and then, losing for a moment his 
self-control, turns azvav, still retaining it in his grasp.) 

Helen. Oh. Richard ! I am so, so sorry. What would I not 
do to avoid giving you pain ! 



ACT I.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 15 

Richard. It is not your fault. It is my own cursed blindness. 
I might — I should have seen that I — forgive me, Helen ; I know 
your grief is sincere, and I should not thus aggravate it ; but to 
thus lose you foiever — pshaw ! this is cruel. I must put an end 
to it. Good-bye! {He kisses her forehead, and di opping her handy 
leaves her. As he is about to depart through the door at back, Daisy 
Temple tushes in excitedly, followed by Airs. Tenniel.) 

Daisy T. Oh, dear ! what do you think? The Chief of Po- 
lice has just driven by, to say that Tenniel & Courtney's Bank is 
on fire ! Helen, let's go down town — will you? Jack will go 
with us. Come, get your things on. {Exit.) 

Mrs. Tenniel. Richard, would you do me the favor to go 
down to the fire, and ascertain what you can about Mr. Tenniel? 
Of course, he is well able to take care of himself, but I am so 
fearful he' will be too rash. You know his energy, and how accus- 
tomed he is to take the lead on such occasions. 

Richard. Of course, dear madam, I will go with pleasure. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Thanks ! I shall feel less anxious, if you are 
there. Bring Mr. Tenniel back with you, and we shall postpone 
dinner till your return. {Richard bows and exit.) Helen, are you 
going, too? 

Helen. I suppose so, dear. Daisy will be disappointed if I 
don't, and she is such a bold little woman, I really feel as if she 
would be safer in my company. She would only laugh at any 
warning from Mr. Frost. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Very well, dear ; but before you go, tell me 
about Richard. Did you not give him some encouragement? 

Helen. No, mamma. How could I? 

Mrs. Tenniel. Oh, dear ! I am sorry. Your father will be 
annoyed ; and really, E ward Lee surely cannot expect to hold 
you to your engagement under existing circumstances? 

Helen {quietly). He offered to release me, and I declined to 
be released. {Exit I/elen.) 

Mrs. Tenniel. How much she resembles her dear father. 
Well, I have done what I could. 

{Enter Daisy in a black mantle and dark hat, accompanied by 
yack Frost, who has donned a dark overcoat?) 

Daisy. Where is Helen? How slow she is. 

Mrs. Tenniel. She will be here directly. If you meet Mr. 
Tenniel, Daisy, be sure and tell him I am so anxious to see him 
safe at home. Try to bring him with you, dear. Ah ! Richard ! 
{Richard appears at the head of the stairs.) Back already ? Did 
you meet Mr. Tenniel ? 

Richard. Mr. Fellows has just left him. lie is now in the 
parlor with a message for you. 

Mrs. Tenniel. No bad news, I hope. 

Richard. 1 trust not, but I believe he is impatient to see you. 
{Mrs. Tenniel leaves the room, turning to h';r right. Richard 
places himself directly between her and the stairs.) 

Richard {returning hurredly), Daisy, where is Helen ? 



SCENE I.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 17 

(As Richard enters the room turning towards Daisy ^ to right of 
stage, a gentleman^ Dr. Sargent, is seen at the head of the stairs^ 
making a motion to others on the stairway to ascend.) 

Daisy. In her room. We are just getting ready to go to the 
fire. 

Richard, Not now, not now ! Go to Helen and keep her 
from coming here. Mr. Tenniel has been injured, and . 

{Two Jiremen and a servant now enter, bearing Mr, Tenniel be- 
tween thetn. The doctor pushes forward the sofa, to the left of 
entrance, and they deposit the unconscious man upon it. They are 
followed by a policeman, bearing Lee' s hat and a revolver in his 
hand. Daisy is about to cross to left as they enter ^ but steps back 
affrighted and leans against the billiard table. 

Richard. Doctor, is there any hope? 

Doctor [feeling Mr. Tenniel' s pulse). None whatever. His 
pulse has even now ceased to beat. Happily, the perpetrator of 
this foul crime has been found and arrested. 

Richard. Good ! Where was he found. 

Policeman. In the alley, back of the building, insensible. 
He had evidently attempted to escape by jumping out of the 
second-story window. 

Richard. But what evidence. 

Policeman. He is the owner of these {holding up hat and 
revolver) that were found by the body. 

Daisy. Impossible ! That is Edward Lee's hat. 

Policeman. Yes, miss, he's the very fellow. {The door at left 
opens and Helen's hand is seen grasping the door-post, as though for 
support. Mrs. Tenniel appears at back, leaning on Mr. Fellows^ 
arm.) 

Richard. Good God! Can it be possible! Edward Lee the 
murderer of Mr. Tenniel? {Mrs. Tenniel falls in a swoon, and 
Richard and Daisy run toward her and carry her to a seat with 
Mr. fellows' assistance, Daisy supporting her head. The door at 
left is thrown wide open, and Helen stands a moment immovable 
and pale in the doorway, a black mantle on and a hat in her hand. 

Helen. No, it is not possible ! ( Then, throwing herself beside 
the corpse, she exclaims:) Oh! father, dearest father, speak, tell 
us the dreadful trulh {turning to Richard, so as to throw her pro- 
file in relief against the dark background made by the sofa and her 
fathers body!). Richard, is there no hope? {Richard shakes his 
head sadly. Curtain falls.) 



ACT II. J THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 19 



ACT II. 

Scene. — The court room : Judge on the bench ; jury sitting with their 
back to the audience ; the witness box to judge's left and facing the jury and 
consequently the audience ; in front of and facing the judge a long table, at 
which sit the attorneys and, toward the front and a little back from the table, 
Edward Lee, sitting with a couple of officers ; at the left, opposite the judge 
are seated Merton Courtney, Richard Fellows, and Daisy Temple. 

The Judge. Before deciding finally upon this subject I wish, 
though I hardly feel doubtful as to what that decision will be, to 
put a few questions to the party whose affidavit accompanied the 
motion of the defense for a postponement of the trial, on the 
ground that this strange machine is an essential witness to their 

case. ( To the clerk) Call Mr. {looking at his notes) Richard 

Fellows. 

Clerk. Richard Fellows. 

Richard Fellows. Here! {Hsing and stepping forward^ 

Judge. Will Mr. Fellows please oblige me by taking his 
place in the witness box. 

Richard Fellows (obeying). With the greatest pleasure. 
Your honor will readily see that in view of — 

Judge. Pardon me. If you will allow me I will just put two 
or three questions to which you will please reply, as, in fact, 
merely a complement to the affidavit before me. 

Richard Fellows. Exactly. Now, your honor must first 
understand — 

Judge {ivith emphasis). The witness must understand that 
the court will put to him two or three questions, to which he will 
be good enough to reply directly and succinctly. I believe, Mr. 
Fellows, that no one but yourself was cognizant of the working 
of this development of the phonograph. 

Richard Fellows. No one but myself and Mr. Tenniel, 
your honor, who had permitted me to carry on my experiments 
over his office. 

Judge. The invention or improvement, then, that you claim 
to have perfected was, after all, only an experiment? 

Richard Fellows. Hardly that — its efficiency had been 
demonstrated, and it must absolutely contain and be capable of 
giving out the actual record of all that took place in Mr. Ten- 
niel's private office on that eventful day. 

Judge. How comes it, Mr. Fellows, that this wonderful 
invention was kept a profound secret. 

Richard Fellows. Simply, because I was not ready to give 
it to the public. 

Judge. Not having yet perfected it — 

Richard Fellows. It lacked but one thing, and that was 
supplied the night before the day referred to. This defect 



SCENE II. J THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS, 21 

remedied, the record, as I can readily show to the Court, must 
have been perftct. 

Judge. You have not another machine, precisely similar? 

Richard Fellows. No, your honor, I have not ; but that is 
not material. I can readily show, to the satisfaction of the Court, 
that the phonograph is really most efficient, and in this case an 
essential witness — 

Judge {coldly). As a matter of facty however, you had never 
had a perfectly satisfactory test of its capacity. 

Richard Fellows. If the Court will allow me, that is not 
of immediate consequence. The only defect detected, I say, had 
been already remedied, when — 

Judge. The Court requires no further evidence from Mr. 
Fellows. You may retire. 

Richard Fellows. One moment, your honor. 

Judge. I mu-t insist. 

Richard Fellows {getting excited). No! no! Nothing of 
the kind. I must put the matter plainly before you. You evi- 
dently misunderstand — 

Judge. I understand very well, sir; but if you will put what 
you have to say in few words, and remember you are addressing 
me, not the jury, you may proceed. 

Richard Fellows. Thank you. I want the Court to under- 
stand that the only defect apparent in former tests of my inven- 
tion or development of the phonograph, had a special cause, which 
I readily discovered and remedied; and of course, the cause 
being removed, the action of the machine in question now must 
have been perfect. The witness must be found. 

Judge. There — that will do, sir. You have already twice 
admitted that the invention was rot perfected. 

Richard Fellows. I have admitted nothing, your honor. 

Judge. You have admitted it, as plainly as two and two make 
four ; you wzV/ admit that, T suppose. 

Richard Fellows. That depends — sometimes they make 
twenty-two. 

Judge. We must have an end of this. I have already told 
you, you might retire. I am ready to grant some indulgence to 
the vagaries of an enthusiast, but any man of sense — 

Richard Fellows {angiily). Any man of no sense can apply 
the term enthusiast to a man of genius. 

Judge. Sir, this is unpardonable. Leave the witness box 
at once. 

Richard Fellows. Not before I have given my testimony — 

Judge (furiously). Leave the box, sir. 

Richard Fellows {speaking very loud). — that if this trial 
proceeds — 

Judge [to the sheriff). Remove that man. 

Rich\rd Fellows (at the top of his voice). — without this wit- 
ness {the sheriff signals his deputies, who approach Mr. Fellows, 
he waving them off) — and this poor boy be convicted, it will be 



ACT II.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 23 

a case of judicial murder. ( The deputies seize him and force him 

out of the box). 

Judge. I shall commit you, sir, for contempt. 

Richard Fellows {furiously^ and resisting the depttties). 
Contempt be damned — I say judicial murder, judicial murder — 
do you hear ? {Daisy clops her hands.) 

Judge {pale with rage). Mr. Clerk, enter up a judgment 
against this Richard Fellows, for contempt of court. One week 
in the common jail, and $100 fine. Mr. Sheriff, he is your 
prisoner. {Sheriff lises, and tries to remove Mr. Fellows gently.) 

Richard Fellows {still sfrnggling. but being pushed toward 
door in rear). A fig for your jail — ^judicial murder ! ! 

Judge. And I must warn all persons, especially females, that 
any unseemly demonstrations will compel me to have them re- 
moved from the court-room. 

{By this time, the deputies have gotten Mr. Fellows outside the 
door, the sheriff following, carrying his hat^ cane and gloves^ when 
he breaks from the deputies, and thrusting the sheriff aside, he 
shakes his fist toward the Jud^e, and yells out — ) 

Richard Fellows. A case of judicial murder, I say! {He 
is summarily silenced, and led off by the sheriff and his deputies^ 

Judge. How many more witnesses does the prosecution in- 
tend to call ? 

Prosecuting Attorney. Two more only, your honor : Mr. 
Merton Courtney and Miss Helen Tenniel. 

Judge. The Court will first dispose of the motion of the de- 
fense, regarding this phonographic witness. I see no reason 
whatever, to alter the decision already arrived at. which is that 
the absence of the so-called witness is not a sufficient cause for a 
postponement of the trial. Five months have now elapsed since 
the crime was committed, and there seems to be no more likeli- 
hood of its being found now than there was five months ago, 
notwithstanding all the efforts made to recover it. It is further- 
more evident that the invention had not got beyond the experi- 
mental stage, and it is, moreover, extremely doubt ful whether, after 
going through the conflagration, as undoubtedly it did, even if 
we accept the prisoner's own statement as to his saving the 
instrument and dropping it in his flight, it would be capable of 
reproducing correctly what transpired in its hearing, if I may be 
allowed the expression. Under the circumstances, as I have 
already stated, the Court can not regard the absence of this auto- 
matic witness as a sufficient cause for a postponement of the 
trial. The motion of the defense is therefore denied. The prose- 
cution will now proceed with its testimony. Call the witnesses. 

Crier {reading from slips). Merton Courtney — Helen Tenniel. 

{Merton Courtney rises and steps forivard to the witness stand. 
At the same moment, Mrs. Tenniel enters through a door at the 
right and a little in rear of witness box, leaning on Richard Coutt- 
neys arm. She is followed by Helen, leaning on the arm of Jack 
Frosty both Mrs. T. and Helen being in deep mourning. As they 



SCENE II.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 25 

enter y they pass round by seats at backy and take theit place in front 
row at left of stage, alongside of Daisy Tejjiple. Lee turns partly 
round, and as she goes to her seat, Helen's eyes meet his, and Jor a 
moment they ate both overcome with emotion^ 

Pros. Atty. Mr. Courtney. {Merton Courtney enters the box 
and is sworn.) 

Pros. Atty. Mr. Courtney, please state to the jury under 
what circumstances you met the prisoner on the day of Mr. Ten- 
niel's murder. 

Merton Courtney, As I was hurrying to the Bank, after 
learning that it was in flames, I saw the prisoner carried out from 
the alley in rear of the building, apparently unconscious. Almost 
simultaneously, the body of Mr. Tenniel was brought round from 
the front of the building, borne in the arms of the two firemen 
who were examined this forenoon. They were closely followed 
by a third fireman, carrying a pistol and a hat, which, in answer 
to my inquiry, he stated had been found on the floor, beside Mr. 
Tenniel's body, in the private office of the Bank. Hastily de- 
spatching a messenger for a physician, I directed a policeman to 
take charge of the weapon and the hat, which I felt sure would 
furnish a clue to the criminal, and requested Mr. Fellows to 
proceed to Mr. Tenniel's house to {here the witness is apparently 
overcome tvith emotion, but recovering himself, proceeds) break the 
news to Mrs. Tenniel and her daughter — {he hesitates^ 

Pros. Atty. What took place after that? Did the prisoner 
recover consciousness ? 

Mertov Courtney. He did ; just as the physician expressed 
the opinion that Mr. Tenniel was quite dead. 

Pros. Atty. Please state what then occurred. 

Merton Courtney. With a sudden effort, as if startled by 
the physician's words, the accused exclaimed : " Dead ! dead ! 
Is there no hope ? And the criminal is not known ? " I placed 
my hand on his shoulder, seeking to compose him, and said ; 
" No, Edward, but we have a clue to him. A pistol and hat 
have been found. Just then I paused, observing for the first 
time that the accused was hatless. As I paused he exclaimed, 
excitedly: " Good God ! Mr. Courtney, you do not think that 
/murdered Mr. Tenniel." At this exclamation the policeman 
already referred to said: " Hold on, Mr. Lee; are these yours?" 
pointing to the hat and pistol. To this enquiry the accused 
replied somewhat incoherently, but, as I recollect, admitting the 
ownership, but protesting his innocence vehemently. The officer 
remarked he guessed he should have to place him under arrest. 
The accused then suddenly exclaimed : " The phonograph ! 
the phonograph ! I had it in my hands. Who has it ? You 
must find it." 

Pros. Atty. You say you understood the prisonef to acknowl- 
edge the ownership of the revolver. Is it not known to yourself, 
Mr. Courtney, as belonging to the prisoner — 

Atty. for Deft. One moment, To save time, I may state 



ACT II.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 27 

that the defense is perfectly willing to admit the ownership of 
the revolver provided the prisoner's own statement before the 
coroner as to his finding the weapon in the private office of Mr. 
Tenniel and his discovery ol the body, be presented to the jury 
as evidence in this case. 

Judge. That's fair. Unless the prosecution objects, I see no 
objection, 

Atty. for Pros. We have no objection, your honor. 

Judge. Very good. 

Pros. Atty. I have but one more question. Was there any- 
thing peculiar about the prisoner's appearance ? and if so, 
describe it. 

Merton Courtney. He had a severe cut on his forehead, 
and one of his hands appeared to be badly bruised. I attributed 
his excited language partly to his injuries and the excitement 
attending his escape from the burning building. 

Pros. Atty. {addressing the attorney for the defense). He is 
your witness. 

Atty. for Deft, (rising), Mr. Courtney, had you known the 
accused a long time? 

Merton CouiJtney. Almost since his childhood. 

Atty. for Deft. How long had he been in the employ of 
the firm of Tenniel & Courtney on the night of the fire ? 

Merton Courtney. About seven years. 

Atty. for Deft. During that time, had his conduct been 
satisfactory ? 

Merton Courtney. To an eminent degree. He had been 
rapidly promoted to a position of great trust in the bank. 

Atty. for Deft. Had he not on one occasion saved Mr. 
Tenniel's life at the peril of his own ? 

Merton Courtney. He had, about four years previously. 

Atty. for Deft. Please give the particulars. 

Merton Courtney. The bank was entered after office hours 
by a private entrance, left open for the use of employes only who 
might have been detained. Mr. Tenniel was seated in his private 
office, and was seized, gagged and bound and threatened 
with immediate death unless he gave up the keys of the bank. 
The only person then in the building was Edward Lee, who, 
with great presence of mind, telephoned for the police, and then, 
at the risk of his life, suddenly entered the private office armed 
only with a heavy ruler, with which he struck down the leader of 
the gang just as he was about to discharge his weapon at Mr. 
Tenniel. He was in a moment himself seized and bound, a 
couple of shots being fired at him by the man he had struck, but 
which, fortunately, missed him. His object, however, had been 
tc secure delay which permitted the arrival of the police, and 
resulted in the arrest and ultimate conviction of two of the gang. 

Atty. for Deft. After this circumstance, was not the pris- 
oner furnished by his employers with a revolver with instructions 
to keep it in his desk ? 



SCENE II.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 29 

Merton Courtney. He was. 

Atty. FOR Deft. And is not the weapon in question the 
same that was furnished him? 
Merton Courtney. I believe so. 

Atty. for Deft. And he did not carry it on his person, but 
kept it in his desk at the bank? 

Merton Courtney. That I can not say. Such were his 
instructions. 

Atty. for Deft. Are you not aware that the prisoner kept 
this weapon in a drawer in his desk which was intentionally left 
unlocked ? 

Merton Courtney. I am unable to state that fact of my 
own knowledge. Such may have been the case. 

Atty. for Deft. Were not the relations of Mr. Tenniel and 
the accused of a most friendly character ? 

Merton Courtney. Except lately, and on one subject alone, 
they were. 

Atty. for Deft. Do you refer to the accused's pretensions to 
Miss Tenniel's hand ? 

M5RTON Courtney. I do. 

Atty. for Deft. Mr. Tenniel had other views regarding his 
daughter, of which you are aware? 

Merton Courtney. He had. 

Atty. for Deft. I believe the preferred suitor was your own 
son. 

Merton Courtney. He was. 

Atty. for Deft. In conclusion, Mr. Courtney, will you 
kindly inform us what your opinion is of the character of the 
accused? 

Merton Courtney. I have the very highest opinion of him 
and his principles, and a confidence in his moral character, which 
remains unshaken. 

Atty. for Deft. Thank you. That will do. 

Atty. for Pros. Miss Helen Tenniel. 

Crier. Helen Tenniel ! 

{Helen rises, and ATr, Courtney, who has Just left the witness- 
box, offers hey his atm with an air of fatherly tenderness, and sup- 
ports her slotvly to the witness stand and Helen is sworn) 

Pros. Atty. Miss Tenniel, will you be good enough to state 
to the jury whether you saw and spoke with the prisoner on the 
day of your father's mur — death. 

Helen {speaking low and hesitatingly'). I saw Mr. Lee and 
spoke with him on that day. 

One of the Jurymen. Louder, please. 

Pros. Atty. A little louder, please. 

Helen {with a very tremulous voice, but looking up ana speak- 
ing louder). I did see Mr. Lee on that day. 

Pros. Atty. Where did that interview take place ? 

Helen. At my father's house. 

Pros. Atty. Did the prisoner speak to you of an interview 
had that day with your father ? 



ACT II.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 31 

Helen. He did. 

Pros. Atty. Please state what he told you about that inter- 
view. 

Helen. Mr. Lee told me he said he had left the bank. 

Pros. Atty. Did he tell you the cause of his leaving? 

Helen. He said {she falters) my father imposed some condi- 
tions upon his continuing in the service, which he declined to 
accept. 

Pros. Atty. Did these conditions have reference to yourself? 

Helen. Yes. 

Pros. Atty. The prisoner was then, I believe, a suitor for 
your hand ? 

{Helen ■raises her eyes as though about to speak, then hesitates, 
falters, and stops.) 

Pros. Atty. There had been a promise of marriage existing 
between yourself and the prisoner ? 

Helen {pauses a moment, then, looking up and speaking firmly, 
says). Mr. Lee and I are engaged. We have been engaged for 
nearly two years. {From this time Helen speaks more freely and 
louder, giving her testimony modestly but firmly, yet showing the 
effort by which she preserves her self-control^ 

Pros. Atty. Was your father opposed to this engagement ? 

Helen. He was. 

Pros. Atty. And it was the cause of the accused's discharge 
from the service of Tenniel & Courtney? 

Helen. I believe it was. 

Pros. Atty. Did not the accused assign this as the reason at 
the interview you have referred to? 

Helen. He did. 

Pros. Atty. Did not the accused describe the interview be- 
tween himself and your father as a stormy one ? 

Helen. He said my fatlif r had been angry, and that he him- 
self had used an expression which he regretted. 

Pros. Atty. Did he tell you what that expression was, and if 
so, please repeat it to the jury. 

Helen. He said, on leaving my father's presence, that he 
would rue this, or something like that, but he explained that 

Pros. Atty. Never mind his explanation. 

Atty. for Deft. I protest against my learned friend's inter- 
rupting the witness. The young lady is now repeating what the 
accused said, and must be allowed to repeat all he said. 

Judge {to the zvitness). You may proceed. 

Helen. Mr. Lee explained that he referred to the condition 
of affairs in the bank, which were not satisfactory, and which he 
believed my father would find it difficult to adjust without his 
assistance. 

Pros, Atty. Did he not say he would return to the bank that 
evening, and that he expected to meet your father there ? 

Helen (thoughtfully and slowly). No ; he said he should 
have to return to the bank, and I told him my father was proba- 



SCENE II.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 33 

bly there, as he had told me he might remain at his office late 
that evening. 

Pros. Atty. Did you say anything to him about meeting your 
father ? 

Helen. I told him if he met him to avoid any altercation 
with him. 

Pros. Atty. Did the accused's words or manner induce you 
to fear the result of their meeting ? 

Helen. No, sir ; I knew my father was hasty, and feared he 
might say something that would hurt Mr. Lee's feelings. 

Pros. Atty. Your anxiety was therefore entirely on Lee's 
account ? 

Helen fa little confused). Not exactly. I was anxious for 
the sake of both, that nothing unpleasant should occur between 
them. 

Pros. Atty. What did the accused reply to your caution ? 

Helen. He assured me he would endeavor to avoid speaking 
to him altogether. 

Pros. Atty. When did you next see your father ? 

Helen {patheticalty). I never saw him again alive. 

Pros. Atty. Were you present when your father was brought 
home ? 

Helen. I entered the room where he was brought {she is in- 
terrupted by a fit of weeping). 

Pros. Atty. {after she has partially recovered herself). Did 
you see this weapon and this hat {pointing to them on the table) in 
the hands of one of the firemen ? 

Helen. Yes. 

Pros. Atty. Did you recognize both or either of them as be- 
longing to the accused ? 

Helen. I recognized the hat as his. 

Pros. Atty. ( to the Atty. for the defense). That is all ; the 
witness is yours. 

Atty. for Deft. Did you not, previous to Mr. Lee's return 
to the bank, inform him yourself of the existence of the phono- 
graph in the ceiling of the apartment ? 

Helen. I did. 

Atty. for Deft. And that everything that occurred within 
the apartment was faithfully recorded by it ? 

Helen. Yes, sir ! 

Atty. for Deft. Did Mr. Lee seem to doubt its capacity to 
do so ? 

Helen {surprised). No, sir ! 

Atty. for Deft. One thing more : How long have you 
known Mr. Lee ? 

Helen {with a faltering voice'). We were children together. 

Atty. for Deft. During all the time of your acquaintance, 
have you ever known him to speak of your father save in a 
friendly and respectful manner ? 

Helen {eagerly). Never. He always spoke of him almost af- 



ACT II. J THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 35 

fectionately. {Then hurriedly and entirely forgetful of every- 
thing save the desire to save her lover.) He esteemed and respected 
my father ; he loved him for my sake. He risked his life for 
him. Nothing could have induced him — 

Pros. Atty. [trying to stop her). I must protest — 
Helen. You shall not stop me, sir ! Gentlemen of the jury 
{extending her hands to them), it is you who will have to decide. 
Edward Lee itever committed this awful crime. I know I feel, 
he could not have harmed my father. For pity's sake — {She 
falls fainting to the floor.) Richard Courtney and Daisy Temple 
dart forward. Lee springs to his feet, but the officers each place a 
hand on his arm and stop him. He drops back into his chair, and, 
overcome with emotion, covers his face with his hands and sobs 
heavily. Helen is raised from the floor by Richard and Daisy, and 
as fack Frost comes forward with Mrs. Tenniel, the Curtain falls . 

END OF ACT II. 



ACT III. 



Scene. — The library of Merton Courtney's residence at Eldridge. Pres- 
ent, Mcrton Courtney and his son Richard, seated at a side table, discussing 
a light lunch; decanter on the table. Richard is still eating, and Mr. Court- 
ney, having finished his meal, turns his chair partly round, and lights a cigar. 

Merton Courtney. By your leave, Richard. I did not ob- 
serve that you had not finished eating. 

Richard C. All right, sir. I have finished now, and will 
trouble you for a mate to that weed. 

Merton C. {handing Richard his cigar case). Now let me 
explain why I ordered lunch for ourselves in the library. I have 
three things to talk to you about, and as I shall be incessantly 
occupied all day, and may have to go to the capital to-night, I 
had no other time. First, as to your prospects. 

Richard C. They are excellent, but why discuss such matters 
now when a dozen other matters more important claim your at- 
tention ? 

Merton Courtney. Nothing can be more important to me 
than my only son's welfare. You say your prospects are good. 
I believe they are. Prosecuting attorney for one of the most im- 
portant districts in the State at thirty, and partner of one of the 
leading lawyers in the country ; but I have further ambitions for 
you, Richard, which I trust I may live to see gratified. If I am 
elected to the Senate, and I think I may safely count upon the 
present Legislature in this contest, my term will expire in a pres- 
idental vear. President Lincoln's re-election next year is certain, 
but he will not accept a third term. The Stalwart party, as you 
know, will have to choose between myself and a Western man. 



SCENE III. J THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 37 

say Kansas or California. If the West carries the day, I shall be 
offered, and shall accept, a foreign mission, and you must succeed 
me in the Senate. 

Richard Courtney. My dear father — 

Merton Courtney. My dear boy, it shall be as I say. Two 
years more, if you will be wise and tractable, shall see you in 
Congress, and then — the Senate. But in the meantime you must 
get married. 

RiCHAKD Courtney. Not yet, thank you. 

Merton Courtney. Yes, no2v ; the sooner the better. I am 
a widower. I have been too busy to secure a mistress for my 
home, even had I wished to do so. I am now too old — too set in 
my ways to put up with a woman's whims. Yet social pre-emi- 
nence is part of my programme, and I want you to assist me in 
this pleasant portion of my labor, by securing a lovely and accom- 
plished mistress to preside over the home of Senator Courtney. 
Helen Tenniel {Richard starts and looks grave) is twenty-one years 
old to-day. In another hour I shall have resigned my guardian- 
ship, which has in fact, already expired. Two years have now 
elapsed since — since poor Tenniel died. 

Richard Courtney. Father, let us dismiss this subject now 
forever. To propose marriage to Heleji would be to insult her. 
She feels as irrevocably bound to Lee, as though he were in my 
shoes and I in his. 

Merton Courtney. Nonsense ! mere romance ! 

Richard Courtney. Call it what you will, so it is ; and fur- 
thermore, let me say that I no longer feel towards Helen as I used 
to. In order to serve her, I had to school myself pretty severely. 
My task has left some scars, but it is accomplished. I made for 
Helen the greatest sacrifice a man can make — I overcame my 
love, that I might remain her friend, and I can now calmly con- 
template her devotion to another. I may marry some day, per- 
haps soon, though I confess I see many obstacles, but it will not 
be Helen. 

Merton Courtney. Very well, Dick ! I see you are set in 
this matter ; but I am sorry, very sorry. Helen should marry. 
She surely cannot look forward to the recovery of this phonograph 
after all that has been done, all the money spent in vain to secure 
it. She has done all she could for Lee. It was really through 
her personal intercession his sentence was commuted, though I 
introduced her to the Governor. 

Richard Courtney. She always gives you credit for saving 
his life, but to this day she is as confident as at first that his inno- 
cence will be proven. 

{A servant enters, announcing gentlei?ien to see Mr, Courtney?) 

Merton Courtney. Show them in, James. 

{Servant retires.) 

Richard Courtney. Politicians, I suppose. I trust that 
man Buckstone is not among them. I was going to speak to you 



ACT I.J THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 39 

about him, father. I assure you it goes sadly against the grain 
to have you associating with men of his stamp, 

Merton Courtney. One of the exigencies of political life, 
Richard. {Servant ushers in three or four gentlemen}^ 

Merton Courtney. Walk in, gentlemen — be seated. My 
son and myself were talking business and eating lunch at the 
same time. What's the news, Mr. Setiimup? I hardly thought 
to see you to-day. 

Mr. Settimup. There was no use remaining longer. You 
are safe, sir. Our work is done, practically, though the final bal- 
lot may not be reached till to-morrow. Your friends have worked 
well, and the last twenty-four hours, we had a comparatively easy 
time, but we had to allow a few more ballots for appearance sake. 

Merton Courtney. You nevertheless feel confident ? 

Mr. Settimup. Confident! Of course we do, or we should 
not be here. We went to the Windsor as per your telegram, but 
not finding you there, came over to report to you in person. 

Merton Courtney. Thank you. Thank you. I shall never 
forget my friends on this occasion. I shall join you at the Wind- 
sor within two hours. We shall make Parlor K our headquar- 
ters. Until then my son will represent me. In the meantime 
let us drink success to the 'good old Stalwart party. Fill your 
glasses, gentlemen. {Richaid pours out ivine and the toast is drunk^ 

Merton Courtney, Now, Richard, please escort these gen- 
tlemen to the Windsor, and be my Alter Ego, for an hour. 

{^Exeunt all but Jim Buckstone.) 

Jim Buckstone. A word with you, Courtney. 

Merton Courtney {looking at his watch). At your service 
for two minutes. 

Jim Buckstone. One will do. I am out of money and out of 
luck,/ari/ {^he emphasizes the last word, keeping his eyes fixed on 
Courtney, and handing him a paper) there are my terms, look 
them over at your leisure but rejnember, that {pointing to the 
paper) contains my lowest figure. I am not to be bought for less. 
Besides, you know you never forget your friends. I will call for 
you in an hour, and we will go to the hotel together. {Exit) 

Merton Courtney (r<?«f/jj. Very good. Ah! United States 
Marshal ! Well, my friend Buckstone is modest indeed. $10,000 
down ! Damn it, does bethink I am a gold mine? The man has 
no conscience. He forgets that I could send him to States prison, 
but, well — No that's not to be thought of {rings bell and takes 
another glass of ivine. To servant who answers bell). Ask Miss 
Tenniel if she will see me here for a few moments, on business. 
{He sits down, glances again at the paper left with him by Buckstone, 
sighs heavily, and getting up, walks back and forth ttvo or three 
ti?nes and ejaculates) It is a living death ! ( Then sitting at a desk 
he takes some papers out of a drawer and arranges them on the 
table, one over the other, leaving only the lower portion uncovered for 
signature — enter Helen). 

Merton Courtney {rising). Helen, my dear child {taking both 



SCENE I.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 41 

her hands in his) I am no longer your guardian. I have endeav- 
ored to do my duty to you, dear, and to-day our relations termi- 
nate. It will be necessary for you, as a matter of form, to sign a 
few documents. There they are. I shall read them to you. 
Helen. Is that necessary? 

Merton Courtney. Not necessary, my dear, but proper. It 
might be said I had taken advantage of my ward. 

Helen. Please, Mr. Courtney, spare me {taking pen, signs 
wherever Merton Courtney's finger points). 

Merton Courtney. Thank you for your confidence, Helen. 
It is more precious to me than perhaps you dream of. Now let 
me say a few words about yourself. Excuse me if 1 seem inquisi- 
tive. You had a letter from poor Lee to-day. 

Helen, Yes sir. I was going to show it to you, it is so like 
his genuine manly spirit, but he is quite discouraged. {Hands 
Mr. Courtney the letter. He reads it with apparent emotion) 

Merton Courtney. Generous, noble boy ! Helen, he is right 
in what he says. You are throwing your life away. One moment. 
As your guardian I refrained from giving you advice that might 
seem interested, but now. as your friend, 1 ought to speak plainly, 
it is my duty, for your own, your mother's sake. You know what 
unceasing efforts have been made to obtain the only depository of 
the awful mystery that surrounds your father's death. All in vain. 
Were public opinion in harmony with otir sentiments as regards 
Lee's innocence of the crime, or even were that opinion divided, 
there might be some opportunity for a pardon. But you know 
that with hardly an exception, outside our immediate circle, every 
one believes him guilty. 

Helen {tveeping). Alas ! it is too true. 

Merton Courtney. Then do you not see that you owe some- 
thing to y.ur poor mother? 

Helen. Mother. Ah! yes. but what can I do for her? How 

does my — my fidelity to Edward render me recreant towards her? 

Merton Courtney. I think I must explain to you what you 

do not seem to understand fully, dear child. You know how 

seriously your poor father's estate was entangled. 

Helkn. Yes — at least I think so. 

Merton Courtney. It was indeed, so seriously that now at 
the surrender of my two years' trust, I have not $500 to transfer 
to you. The search for the Phonograph has cost much money — 
Helen. But my mother's life-rent and the house. 
Merton Courtney {smiling sadly). All the property your 
father left would not have paid the life-rent for a year. The 
house — the mortgage on that was foreclosed a month ago, and its 
new owners are now in possession. 1 1 was in view of that I begged 
you to make your home here this winter. Yes, Helen, you are a 
brave girl, ^nd you must learn to face the inevitable; save for such 
poor hospitality as I can afford, and for such time as the artificial 
society we live in will permit you to enjoy it, you — 

Helen. I see it now — we are practically penniless. Poor 



ACT I.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 



43 



mother, how will she bear it? Mr. Courtney, I begin to see that 
we are indebted to you for supplying even our material wants. To 
adequately thank you for the way in which you have administered 
the trust my father left you, would be impossible. And now you 
must give me advice ; we must not be dependent on any one. 

Merton Courtney. Helen, there is a way. and only one way 
by which you can secure such a home for your mother, such a 
position for yourself, as you are both entitled to. 

Helen. How? Pray tell me how? 

Merton Courtney. Can you not guess, dear child? Helen 
(taking her hand), if you could make up your mivd to make the 
master of that home the happiest of men {she starts and almost 
recoils) — Pardon me, my child, I might have known such a propo- 
sition would be repugnant to you. 

Hflen. No'! no! it is not that — \\. \s noi you {covering her 
face with her hands). 

Merton Courtney. Then believe me, dearest, if you can 
find it in your heart to cherish some regard for an old man who 
fondled you as a child, admired you as a girl, and esteems and 
loves you as a woman — if you can allow him the supreme hap- 
piness of ministering to your eveiy wish, of providing for your 
mother's every comfort — What say you, Helen, may 1 hope? 

Helen. Mr. Courtney, does Richard know of this? 

Merton Courtney. At least, I satisfied myself, before I 
ventured to speak to you, that your accepiance would not mar his 
happiness {a pause). Helen, think of your mother — can you not 
give me some hope? May I not regard your silence as a happy 
omen ? {He dtaws her hands away, and raising her face slightly^ 
stoops and kisses away her tears.) I will send your mcther to you, 
dearest. (J-jcit.) 

Hi L¥.y {Starting u/> as if to follotv him). No! Mr. Courtney! 
I cannot ! you must not ! {Falls hack in her chair in a passion of 
tears. She weeps and shudders. Enter Airs. 7'enniel.) 

Mrs. Tenniel. My dear child. What is this? what has 
happened, Helen ? {S'tting beside her, and caressingly laying the 
girts head on her bosom) 

Helen {controllijtg herself by a great effort, and fixing her eyes 
onher motkers face). Mr. Courtney has just asked me to be his 
wife, and I fear he has left me under the impression that I have 
consented. I was not sufficiently explicit, 1 fear. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Mr. Courtney ! Is it possible? Had it been 
Richard ! 

Helen. Richard, I am thankful to say, never thinks of me in 
that way, now; but had it been Richard, my feeling would have 
been just the same, I can never marry, and my only fear is lest 
Mr. Courtney should have misunderstood me. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Why did you not tell him just what you have 
told me, dear, if you feel your decision to be irrevocable. 

Helen. Because — . Well, I did almost hesitate for a mo- 
ment, but it was only for a moment. The fact is, I have only just 



SCENE III.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 45 

learned how poqr we are. Mr. Courtney thought it his duty to 
tell me all, now that I am of age. Ah! dearest mamma, how 
will you be able to bear poverty ? 

Mrs. Te.nnial. Poverty ! my dear child, surely not as bad as 
that. There is my life rent, and the Tennial property, and . 

Helen. No, mamma ; the estate is no longer able to pay the 
life rent ; in fact, for the past year you are indebted for it to the 
generosity of Mr. Courtney, while the Tenniel property is no 
longer ours. 

Mrs. Tenniel. What ! no longer ours ! Explain yourself, 
Helen. If sold, the proceeds are surely yours, dear. 

Helen. The proceeds will hardly satisfy the demands of the 
mortgages upon it. 

Mrs. Tenniel. My dear child, what is this tale of woe you 
are unfolding to me ? Why, Helen, do you realize that if all you 
tell me is true, we are beggars? 

Helen. Well, yes, I suppose we are, and I must find employ- 
ment at once. I can earn enough for our necessities, mamma 
darling, but I am afraid the change in our circumstances will be 
dreadfully hard for you. 

Mrs. Tennial (7£/<f<?//;?^). Anything would be better than this. 
To think of you. my dear child, finding employment, and of our 
living in some garret, in want of the bare necessaries of life. 
{Pauses and sobs aloud. Helen rises ajid nervously moves about 
the room ; her mental anguish intensifies.) And to think that if 
you could only have overcome a romantic, almost ; forgive me, 
Helen, but I must say under, the circumstances, almost a sinful 
attachment. 

Helen. Hush, mother ! do not speak of that. We shall never 
agree on that subject, and I cannot have you speak in such a way. 
{In an altered tone) You have said, enough, mamma. I do not 
intend to sacrifice your life as well as my own. Give me until 
this evening ; I shall see Mr. Courtney, and give him a final 
answer to his proposal (a pause) — probably an affirmative one. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Oh ! Helen, my child, for your own sake, I 
trust you will have strength to carry out this' resolution. Mr. 
Courtney's proposal is certainly a flattering one, and with his 

present prospect^ . 

^ {Enter Daisy Temple and Jack Frost. Daisy is happy and ex- 
cited, and yack less languid than usual.) 

Daisy. Dear me, how solemn you look. No bad news, I 
hope ? I have such awfully good news for you — I must tell you 
before Jack gets a chance. We are not engaged any more. There 
now. i-,n't that splendid ? 

Mrs. Tenniel. Why this is news, indeed; but how did it 
occur ? Have you and Daisy been quarrelling, Mr. Frost ? 
Jack Frost. No ; that is, yes — ever since we were engaged, 

and to-day Daisy . 

Daisy. Oh, Jack ! what a story. I didn't ; it was Jack. 



ACT III.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 47 

Jack Frost. Well, you said it would be a happy release, and 
as I thought so too 

Daisy. I never said it until you said you could see I did not 
care about you. 

Jack F. Well, you don't, you know ; and I think when a 
girl who is engaged admits she thinks more of — 

Daisy. If you don't hold your tongue. Jack, I'll never speak 
to y >u again (pouting, and going up to Helen, she addresses her 
confidentially. Jack remains at right by Airs. Tenniel, who makes 
him sit beside her). 

Mrs. Tenniel. I'm afraid you and Daisy will be sorry for 
this, Mr. Frost. Had you not better try to come to an under- 
standing? 

Jack F. Ah ! that's what we did, you see. I saw Daisy 
didn't care a fig about me, and I thought there was no use in 
keeping the thing up, just to oblige my mother and Mr. Court- 
ney ; so I — well, Diisy is awfully sensible, and saw the point at 
once, and now. I'm going abroad, somewhere. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Why do you do that, Mr. Frost, with every- 
thing to make you happy in your own country. 

Jack F. Oh ! that's rather strong, you know. I know I have 
a good deal to make a man happy, lots of what the parsons call 
blessings, you know, and I don't want to be ungrateful. I've got 
the fastest yacht in the club, and I drive one of the handsomest 
teams in the country, and — and I measure more round the arm 
than any other fellow in our set — I do, indeed ; and I can throw 
a ball further than any man I ever knew {sadly), except one ; but, 
really, Mrs. Tenniel, I don't think those sort of things can make 
a man happy forever, especially if he can't have the very thing he 
wants most of all. {He lotvers his voice and Mrs. TennieVs seniles 
vanish, and she begitis to look serious and interested. They con- 
tinue their conversation inaudibly. 

Helen {moving tozvards front of stage, her arm around Daisy). 
And so Jack was not altogether wrong as to "some oiher fellow." 
Well, darling, you know what I always thought about your en- 
gagement, and I think I have good news for you. I am very 
sure that " some other fellow" thinks more of Daisy Temple this 
minute 

Daisy. Oh, Helen ! I am afraid you say so to comfort me. I 
know too well — but then, I do not want to trouble you with my 
sorrow. Don't you think Jack behaved well ? 

Helen. Splendidly, dear. With all his oddities. Jack has an 
excellent heart, and he is a gentleman. I think he showed it on 
this occasion. 

Daisy. So do I. And I never loved him so much as I do 
now ; but you know he was awfully glad to get out of it himself. 
He is wildly in love himself, and I'm afraid it is hopeless, poor 
fellow. 

Helen. Why, poor Jack {laughing), it is rather difficult to im- 



SCENE III.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 49 

agine Jack hopelessly in love, {Daisy puts her finger on Helenas 
lips, and replies to her inaudibly and mysteriously.) 

Mrs. Tenniel. Indeed, my dear Mr. Frost, nothing could 
give me greater pleasure, but I fear I can give you no encourage- 
ment. I may say to you, confidentially, as to an intimate friend, 
that my daughter has, even now, under consideration, a proposal 
of marriage, of a most eligible description. 

Jack F. I don't believe she'll accept it. 

Mrs. Tenniel. You flatter yourself, no doubt, that Mr. 
Frost's superior attractions have such influence. 

Jack F. I beg your pardon, Mrs. Tenniel. I have not the 
slightest hope for myself; but I do not think Miss Tenniel will 
marry any one. However, you must excuse me. I did not in- 
tend to go into such personal matters. Good-by, Mrs. Tenniel. 

Helen {turttins^ half round and extending her hand). Are you 
going, Mr. Frost ? 

Jack F. Yes, Miss Tenniel, to attend to a little political busi- 
ness for my uncle just now ; but I do not expect to see you again, 
as I leave for Europe to-morrow. {He takes her hand, and look- 
ing hesitatingly at her , says) Good-by, Miss Tenniel. 

Helen. Good-by, Mr. Frost. 

Jack F. Please say Jack. 

Helen (i'w///«o-.) Certainly, if you wish it. Good-by, Jack. I 
hope you will have a very pleasant journey. 

Jack F. Thank you. and God bless you. {He kisses her hand 
earnestly, but respectfully, and moves slowly towards the door.) 

Daisy {going tozvards him) Are you going to forget me, Jack ? 
Good-by. 

Jack F. {turning towards her). Please forgive me, Daisy. I 
— {stammers and stops,, extending both hands to her) — I shall never 
forget you. 

Daisy. Dear old boy, I am so sorry. {Her voice breaks a little) 
We are neither of us very fortunate in love matters — are we? 
{She kisses him on both cheeks. Jack exit) 

Mrs. Tenniel. I fear, Daisy, your guardian will be displeased 
to hear that your engagement to his nephew is at an end. 

Daisy {pouting through her tears). My uncle be {Hel'n 

holds up a warning fingef and Daisy stops. Enter Mr. Fellows) 

Richard Fellows. Good-morning, ladies. Ah, Daisy, 
blooming as ever. I want to see Helen for a minute, alone. 
Will you excuse me, Mrs. Tenniel ? 

Mrs. Tenniel. Certainly, if you have anything to say to 
Helen, that I may not hear. Come, Daisy. {They retire) 

Richard F. There, now, I've offended your mother, but I 
can't help it. I feared she might be upset over this letter, if I 
read it to her, and make a scene. 

Helen {eagerly) For Heaven's sake. Uncle Dick, what is it? 
You have good news for me. 

Richard F. Now, quietly dear, quietly ; only a hint of good 
news. Control yourself, and listen. {He reads :) " Mr. Fel- 



ACT III.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 51 

lows, Dear Sir, — About this here phonygraph. Don't you give it 
up yet, but look a leetle nearer home. ' Tain't a good sign when 
a ex-convict is the pal of a ex-governor. Yours, anominously." 
There, now, what do you make of that? It's anonymous, of 
course ; but — 

Helen (nervously struggling to control herself .) I am afraid — 
I do not know what to think, Uncle Dick — but it's strange. 
Now, I remember hearing Richard Courtney say he suspected 
some man of being an ex-convict — some politician. 

Richard F. That fellow Buckstone, I'll be bound, and by 
Jove ! Courtney is an ex-governor. {Enter Buckstone, unper- 
ceived.) We must put a detective on the track of this Buckstone. 

Jim Buckstone. Here he is, sir, at your service. {Air. Fel- 
lows and Helen start back, one to either side, the latter dropping, 
the letter she had taken from Mr. Fellows' hand.) At your service, 
sir. What may you want of me ? 

Richard F. How came you here in this manner, unan- 
nounced ? 

Jim Buckstone. By appointment with Mr. Courtney. And 
now tell me who are you that wants to put some one on the track 
of this Buckstone? {Enter Merton Courtney.) 

Merton C. {smiling) Ah, my dear Fellows, charmed to see 
you. Will you excuse me a moment, and you too, Helen? I 
have an engagement with this gentleman on political business, 
which you know will brook no delays. 

Richard F. {coldlv.) Quite excusable. {Opens the door and 
lets He-en pass out before him. Mr. Courtney and Buckstone both 
watch tht m as ihey go out, and then Buckstone darts forward to 
snatch the paper Helen dropped. Mr. Courtney is too quick for 
him. Ji lies at his feet, and he picks it up before Buckstone can 
reach it. and with a hasty glance, pertises it, turning away from 
Buckstone so as to face the audience ) 

Merton Courtney {aside). Good God ! He must have be- 
trayed me — betrayed us both— /^^Z. fool. FOOL! {Buckstone ex- 
tends his hand to take the pape^, and Courtney tears it into bits.) 

Jim Buckstone. What was that? 

Merton Courtney. Only a little memorandum of feminine 
shopping. Now to business. {Takes out paper Buckstone had 
given him.) Your conditions are absurdly exacting, and I can 
not think of acceding to them. You are altogether too modest, 
Mr. Buckstone. 

Jim Bucktone. Not too modest for a man who can denounce 
you for compounding a felony, Merton Courtney. 

Merton Courtney. But too modest for an escaped convict 
and incendiary, murderer for ail I know, whom I could send to 
the penitentiary within half an hour. 

Jim Buckstone. If you dared. 

Merton Courtney. Why should I not dare {removes his over- 
coat and sits down, taking a small package from an inside pocket). 

Jim Buckstone. Why not ? Which of us has the most to 



SCENE III.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 53 

lose, Courtney ? You, a man of wealth and position, ex-governor, 
probably, ere this, United States senator, and prospective candi- 
date for the Presidency; or, I, a poor ward politician, ex-convict 
and gambler, who never enters a respectable house, save on suf- 
ferance, and never sleeps without a revolver under his pillow ? 

Mekton Courtney. Comparisons are odious, Mr. Buck- 
stone, but I could add a few finishing touches to both pictures, I 
think, that would make the contrast less striking. Suffice it to 
say, that without reference to the remorse which a man must 
suffer who has stood between justice and a miserable devil like 
you for two years, you have managed to make life pretty burden- 
some to me with your infernal blackmailing schemes. {Pours 
himself otct a glass of wine, mixing with it a white poivder so 
that Bucks/one can not see what he is doing and drinks^ And now, 
{He tonches a telegraph button in the wall). I propose to put an 
end to it. 

Jim Buckstone. What infernal trick are you up to now? 

Merton Courtney. I am through with tricks. I am about 
to hand you over to the Chief of Police, whom I have just noti- 
fied to call. 

Jim Buckstone. In order that I may put him in possession of 
a witness to Tenniel's murder. 

M. C. {blanches a little^ but recovering himself, calmly?) Yes. 
If you like. It is about time your victim regained his liberty. 

Bucksione. My victim! Well you are a cool hand. It has 
cost you a pretty penny to keep him where he is. 

Courtney. Yes, I have been a fo^l to pay you for revenging 
yourself and for protecting yourself. 

Buckstone. Look here, Courtney. But'for you the murder 
would have been out before now. The boy's pluck gave me two 
years in jail, I allow, but I bear him no grudge. You do your 
worst, but let me tell you the old man's machine that you've been 
so darned scaied of, is where it will be found, if I do not give 
the word to keep it dark, and if I'm arrested — 

{Some noise and confusion as of persons approaching is heard 
outside.) 

Damn you. I'll not be taken alive. Nor shall I die alone {he 
dra%vs revolver and aims at Courtney s breast. Courtney looks 
him firmly in the eye). 

Merton Courtney. As well die that way, as any other. {Jim 
B. cocks revolver., just as Richard Courtney and Jack Frost, and 
members of the Committee rush into the room. Richard rushes 
towards his father and fuck in a twinkling seizes Buckstone, whose 
weapon goes off, as he does so, knocks him down, and disarms him, 
others assisting him.) 

Jack Frost. What shall I do with him, Uncle? 

Merton Courtney. Hold him if you can for a few seconds. 
The Chief of Police will be here in a moment. Ah! here he is — 
{Enter Chief of Police) Captain Burke, that man is your 
prisoner. He is Jim Buckstone, alias Henry Ford, an escaped 



ACT III.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 55 

convict, and the man who set fire to Tenniel & Courtney's bank, 
two years ago. Mr. Frost will no doubt be glad to be relieved of 
him, but you must be careful, he is somewhat violent. {Chief of 
Police handcuffs and rer?toves him. As they §ei to the door. Buck- 
stone pauses a moment aud turning, is about to speak, but the 
officer hurries him off.) 

Merton Courtney. And now, gentlemen, without apology for 
this unpleasant, but unavoidable little episode, of which, explana- 
tion will be forthcoming in due time, what does this unexpected 
visit portend ? {Smiling but tnaintaining his equanimity by a great 
and apparent concentration of will power.) Is the great question 
settled? 

Mr. Settimup. Yes, Senator, and in our favor. Hurrah ! {the 
others re-echo his cheers and crowd around Mr. Courtney^ 

Richard Courtney {taking his father's hand, and affection- 
ately passing his arm within his). Father, you must let me be the 
first to congratulate our new Senator. ( They shake hands cordial- 
ly, and the others advancim^. all shake hands with the new Senator, 
who, notxvithstandivg increasing suffering, says a pleasant %vord to 
each. Meanwhile. Richard fills some glasses with zvine.) 

Merton Courtney {addressing Jack Frost, 7uho advances last). 
And to you, my good nephew, I think is due the fact that the new 
Senator is not already a corpse. I imagine friend Buckstone is 
not a man to miss his aim. 

Jack Frost. Well, I'm glad I've done something, for once in 
my life, that was worthy of commendation. 

Richard Courtney. Gentlemen, I propose the health of 
Senator Courtney. {They all bow to Mr. Courtney and drink his 
health.) 

Merton Courtney. Thank you, my friends, thank you, and 
now, may I beg you to excuse me for a few moments. I am suf- 
fering to-day, from the effects of slight indisposition, which will 
very quickly pass away, but the pain of which rather takes my 
self-control. My son will remain with me. Jack, take these gen- 
tlemen to the hotel, and act as host, in my stead. Order dinner 
there for us all, and Richard and I will join you in half an hour. 
{All retire but Richard, on whose shoulder Mr. Courtney lays his 
hand. As soon as all have ^one, he sinks into a chair ^ 

Richard Courtney. My dear father, this is more serious than 
I could have imagined a moment ago. Let me call Mrs. Tenniel, 
while I go — 

Merton Coxj'R.T'^'S.y {recoifering himself by a sudden effort and 
speaking emphatically). No, Richard. No. It is too late. This 
is the end. Do not leave me. My last injunction to you is this : 
Right the wrong done to Edward Lee, whatever happens. He is 
innocent. Buckstone has the phonograph. He knows {a spasm 
of great violence comes upon him. Richard pulls the bell-cord vio- 
lently. At the same moment, Mrs. Tenniel, Helen., Daisy and Mr. 
Fellows enter). 



ACT IV.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 57 

Mrs. Tenniel. We have come to offer our congratulations to 
Senator Courney. Heavens ! Richard, what is the matter? 

Richard Courtney. My father is, I fear, very ill. We must 
summon a physician, at once. {'I hey all surround his chair. A 
servant enters.) 

Richard Courtney. James, go at once for Dr. Henry. Tell 
him Mr. Courtney is very ill. {Exit servant. Mr. Courtney opens 
his eyes. They fall on Fellotus, and Helen. He speaks brokenly) 

Merton Courtney. Helen — the missing witness is found- 
Lee s innocence — Buckstone. {Another spasm comes on^ and in 
it he expires) 

END of act III. 



ACT IV. 



Scene,— A room in the Court House. Present: the Judge, the Sheriff, Rich- 
ard Courtney (the District Attorney), and two other gentlemen, constituting a 
Committee of Pardons. They are seated at a table placed lengthwise across 
the stage. Immediately in front of the table is a stand, covered with a green 
cloth, and on it the Phonograph. Beside the Phonograph sits Mr. Fellows. 
At one side of the room are standing and sitting some officers of the Court, and 
at a table at extreme right, two or three reporters. On the left are seated Mrs. 
Tenniel, Helen and Daisy Temple. All intently listening. 

The Judge. In view of the fact that the unprecedented cir- 
cumstances that called for the appointment of a special comnriis- 
sion to hear this extraordinary witness, make an adjournment im- 
possible, and yet, that the events to be recorded lasted several 
hours, in fact, the greater part of one day, it would be interesting 
to know whether the instrument, while not recording the speech 
of any person involved, could be made to revolve more rapidly 
without in any way affecting its evidence. How is it, Mr, Fel- 
lows? 

Richard Fellows. Certainly, Judge. The cylinder can be 
made, by pressure on this little lever at the side {laying his hand 
on it), to revolve with much greater speed. 

Richard Courtney. It would be necessary, however, to re- 
store its normal rate of speed, if I may use such an expression, 
whenever any one was about to speak. Now, how could that be 
done? 

Richard Fellows. Very simply. By raising the upper por- 
tion at the back, I can readily see the indentations on the metal 
sheet that indicate the sounds which occurred within the radius of 
the reproducing capacity ot the Phonograph before they arrive at 
the point where they are reproduced. 1 can then slacken the 
speed to its normal rate by simply raising my hand and relieving 
the lever of the pressure. 



SCENE IV.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 59 

The Judge. I see no objections to this course being adopted. 
Do the other members of the Commission agree ? 
Several Voices. Certainly ; of course. 

Judge. As it is now some time since the Phonograph has ut- 
tered anything, I suggest that the stenographer for the Commission 
read the last words emitted from it. 

Stenographer {rising reads from notes). You will rue this ere 
long, Mr. Tenniel. 

{After a feiu moment's pause, during which Mr. Fellows' finger 
is pressed on the lever, aitd during zvhich a •-'clicking " sound should 
be- audible the ring of a hand bell is heard to proceed from ike Pho- 
nograph. Then a voice). 

Voice. " Did you ring, sir ? " 

Then Mr. Tenniel's Voice. " Yes : bring me the two boxes 
from the vault, the one marked ' Tenniel and Courtney, private,' 
and the other * Luther Tenniel.' " {A few more seconds elapse, and 
then a sound is produced as by some ones depositing metal boxes on 
a tabled 

Mr. Tenniel's Voice. "That will do. Thank you ! Now, 
do not let me be disturbed unless I am especially inquired for." 

{Mr. Felloxvs presses the lever, and in a moment or two is heard 
again) 

Mr. Tenniel's Voice. " Well, sir, what can I do for you? " 
Unknown Voice. " Mr. Stern requests that you will be good 
enough to look at that note and state whether that signature is 
genuine." 

Mr. Tenniel's Voice "Certainly ! why do you ask ? " 
Unknown Voice. " Mr. Stern thought it strange that you 
should have made arrangements for a renewal of the original note 
without having spoken to him about it." 

Mr. Tenniel's Voice. " Renewal — what do you mean ? Let 
me see that note again. Due next month. Well ! sit down. I 
will give you a check for it now." {A pause) " There, tell Mr. 
Stern it was an oversight." 

Unknown Voice. " Thank you, sir." 
{Again a ring.) 

Mr. Tenniel's Voice, " A.sk Mr. Courtney to step this way,— 
{pause). Ah, Courtney, can you give me an hour's interview this 
afternoon. I wish to talk with you particularly." 

Merton Courtney's Voice. " Too bad, my dear Luther ; I 
have to speak at the Stalwart League Club this afternoon. How- 
ever, if you can wait till after five, I can meet you here about that 
hour." ^ ^ 

Luther Tenniel's Voice. "Very well ! That must do, 1 
suppose. I shall be here later than that." 

Merton Courtney's Voice. "Very good. Say 5.30 then." 
{Pause of a few minutes) 

Mr. Tenniel's Voice. "Can it be possible! Deceived — 
deceived, and well nigh ruined. {Pause) Well ! be the worst 



ACT IV.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 6l 

what it may, Luther Tenniel will know how to meet it like a 

man." , j ^ ^t 

(Mr. Fellows examines the instrument once more, and presses the 
lever to accelerate its motion, at the same time laying his watch on 
the table. At the end of a few minutes he speaks.) 

Richard Fellows. At the speed with which the cylinder now 
revolves every minute represents half an hour's duration of time, 
at its normal rate of speed, 

(Aoain a few moments' pause. Richard Courtney, ever since 
the appointment made by his father at 5.30 has shown a little 
uneasiness, and as time goes on, not only he, but all present, seem 
more and more intensely absorbed. Finally,) 

Merton Courtney's Voice. " Well, here I am at last. A few 
minutes late, but that could not be helped, I assure you." 

Mr. Tenniel's Voice. " Courtney ! I am sorry to say I hnd 
the affairs of the bank in a very unsatisfactory condition." 

Merton Courtney's Voice. " I fear so. I was getting a little 
uneasy before your return. You see, my political plans and rela- 
tions in which you have always been as interested as I, took up 
more of my time than I expected, and I was compelled to entrust 
a great deal to Lee. I trust he may not prove to have been un- 
worthy of my confidence." 

Mr Tenniel's Voice. "Lee ! never ! Lee is honesty personi- 
fied Nor do I attribute the trouble to your time having been 
taken up. But I find my private affairs are also involved, and 
that my private papers have been tampered with." ^ , , , 

Merton Courtney's Voice. "Nonsense, man. I had the 

key to the private box while you were gone. By the way, I still 

have it ; it has never left my hands once. Ah ! it has been 

opened. How is that?" i.- u t 1 <. 

Mr. Tenniel's Voice. " I had a duplicate key, which I kept 

^^Merton Courtney's Voice. " No one could have got at the 
box without my knowing it." ^ , 

Mr Tenniel's Voice. " Yes ; but supposing you did know it. 

Merton Courtney's Voice. "^ Luther! what do you insinua- 
ate? What are you thinking of ? " . t 

Mr Tenniel's Voice. "I think much, insinuate nothing, i 
know\\i^ papers in this box have been tampered with. I have 
to-day seen a note, bearing my name, which I never signed. How 
comes Stern to hold a note of mine, a renewal, he says, of a note 
given six months ago ? You had funds to take it up. For God s 
sake tell me all, man, and let me help you, if I can. 

Merton Courtney's Voice. Luther, what madness is this i 
Am I to understand that you really suspect me ." " 

Mr Tenniel's Voice. *' No, it is not mere suspicion. 1 he 
deed to Helen of the Tenniel place is gone, and there are other 
evidences. Courtney, you know that for old times, for old friend- 
ship's sake, I will help you if I can, but I must know all. 

(A pause, during which all present show a more intense interest 



SCENE IV.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 65 

and most painful suspense. Richard Courtney half rises from 
his seat, and then, by a violent effort, controls himself. At last,) 

Merton Courtney's Voice. " What do you propose, suppos- 
ing there is any thing to tell ? Nay, I may as well make a clean 
breast of it — the truth is, Luther, that my political expenses have 
been very heavy, and I found my private account overdrawn. 
As my political career was largely a part of our general plan of 
business, I finally concluded to charge some of these extraordinary 
expenses to the general account. There were other things, 
but I expected to have these matters all straightened up some 
time ago." 

Mr. Tenniel's Voice. '* What about that forged note ? " 

Merton Courtney's Voice. "I will explain about that later. 
Meantime, you know and I know, that something must be done 
to relieve the present stringency, and I have thought of a way. 
I can now control, as Daisy Temple's guardian, some $200,000 
in available funds." 

Mr. Tenniel's Voice. " Stop, sir ! Enough — you confess 
yourself a thief and a forger — " 

Merton Courtney's Voice. "Really, Luther — " 

Mr. Tenniel's Voice. " And you now propose that I shall be 
your accomplice in robbing your ward, to extricate ourselves from 
the consequences of your dishonesty — Hush, man ! hear me out — 
I will give you a chance, but the reputation of Luther Tenniel 
must be saved at all hazards, even though he be reduced to 
beggary. You shall leave with me, here and now, a statement in 
your own writing, of your defalcations and crimes. To-morrow, 
I shall close the doors of the Bank and publish your statement. 
Between to-day and tomorrow, you can leave the country for 
ever. Accept my condition, or this very night I shall denounce 
you, and justice shall take its course." 

Merton Courtney's Voice. " Luther, you are too hard ; you 
are unjust ; your terms are simply preposterous. I decline abso- 
lutely the conditions you impose upon me. Do your worst — " 

Mr. Tenniel's Voice. " Stay, Courtney ! be wise in time. 
Well, then, so be it — his blood be on his own head. Ah ! Merton, 
you have thought better of it. Believe me, it is the only way — " 

Merton Courtney's Voice. "It is not the only way. Mer- 
ton Courtney is not to be balked in this way of his life's ambi- 
tion. You have chosen to be the obstacle in my path — and 
{threateningly) thus do 1 remove it." {A pistol shot, follotued by a 
groan from Tenniel. His body fails heavily to the ground. Here 
Richard Courtney starts up in horror, extending a hand toward the 
machine from which emanates this evidence of his father'' s appall- 
ing critne. An officer of the Court darts tozuard hi7n, as though 
fearing he would fall. As he extends his hand, Richard grasps 
his arm with his right hand, and holds him in a grip of steel, dur- 
ing a pause of about half a minute. Then is heard) 

Mr. Tenniel's Voice (in faltering tones). " Merton Courtney, 
my friend — my partner — thief, forger, murderer — Ah! God! — 



ACT v.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 65 

Elizabeth — Helen — my child — have mercy on them," {Silence 
ensues, and Richard Courtney , staggering forward^ falls prone to 
the Jloor. At the mention of their names by Mr, Tenniel Mrs, 
Tenniel and Helen instinctively start, rise and appear about to 
advance, xvhen Richard C. 's movements arrest them. As Richard 
falls, Daisy rushes past them, and throws herself on the floor by 
Richard's side. With an exclamation of terror, she stoops over him, 
then rises and stands pale and erect, almost defiant. The curtain 
falls.) 

END OF ACT IV. 



ACT V. 

Scene. — A Sitting Room in the late Mr. Courtney's residence. Present. — 
Mrs. Tenniel and Helen. 

Helen. At least, mamma, it seems to me, now that Richard 
no longer requires our care, we ought not to remain here. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Well, I agree with you, dear ; but where are 
we to go ? It is really more than I can bear, to think how your 
poor, dear father was defrauded, robbed by that dreadful man — 
and though the criminal has been discovered, it is too late for his 
punishment, or our good {whitnpering). 

Helen {wearily). Mamma, it is no use for us to revert any 
more to this painful subject. It is — it should be — some consola- 
tion to us to know that one unjustly accused, unjustly convicted, 
has been justified, and his innocence established. As for our- 
selves, of course it has not changed our circumstances, save that 
the amount left to you by Mr. Courtney, doubtless as a salve to 
his conscience, will secure to you a moderate income. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Moderate, indeed ! 

Helen {paying no attention). And I am quite competent to add 
to it enough for my expenses, by my own efforts ; moreover, Daisy 
desires to make her home with us, and is only too anxious that 
we hasten our departure, as, of course, her stay here is, under the 
circumstances, becoming unbearable. So, if you please, mamma, 
let us take the necessary steps at once. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Really. Helen, I can hardly understand you ; 
you are so peremptory and decided in all your views — and to 
hear you talk so calmly about " your own efforts to add to our in 
come," as if you were a mere working girl. I think {shedding a 
few tears), you should have a little more consideration for my 
feelings. 

Helen {going over to her mother's side). I feel sorry to have to 
speak in any way to hurt your feelings, mother, dear. I know 
they have been sadly tried of late ; but we cannot change the 
hard facts, and the best way is to look them boldly in the face 
and act. I am going to find Daisy, and we will see to-day what 
arrangement we'can make. {Exit Helen.) 

Mrs. Tenniel. Dear me {sighing), it is go perplexing to 



SCENE v.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 67 

know just what to do and to be without the means of doing as 
one would wish, is really so trying ; and there's Daisy, poor child — 
Richard really seems to have no intentions, and now his decis- 
ion to leave the country is evidence that he has no thought — . 
Ah! here he is. {Enter Richard.) Have you been out and 
alone ? 

Richard. No, Mrs. Tenniel ; neither out, nor alone. I have 
been spending the morning, however, in the transaction of some 
business. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Business, Richard ! for shame ! What shall 
we do with you ? 

Richard. In truth, Mrs. Tenniel, the inability to attend to 
this matter before was infinitely more trying to me than any 
amount of labor involved in its transaction. I refer to the means 
necessary to afford you reparation. {He stops, ivith ati apparent 
effort at self-control.) 

Mrs. Tenniel. You had better not broach the subject now, 
Richard ; it can wait. Of course, I realize how trying our posi- 
tion is. 

Richard. Yes, indeed ; but I trust it will not be for long. 
"What I wanted to say to you now, was this — My partner and at- 
torney, to whom I entrusted all my father's affairs as soon as I 
was able to think of anything, with instructions to see wliat could 
be done towards making amends, if possible, to those whom my 

father . Well, to cut it short, I am thankful to say, he finds 

things in a better condition than we had a right to expect, and 
assuming the trust confided to my father by Mr. Tenniel, I am 
happy to be able to put you and Helen in possession of the little 
fortune he had settled upon you and her. Better still, my part- 
ner informs me to-day that the purchaser of the Tenniel property 
has consented to waive his right thereto, and accepted a deed to 
this house in its place. 

Mrs. Tenniel {again moved to tears). Oh, Richard ! this is 
too much. And you — what of yourself? 

Richard. Never mind about me, Mrs. Tenniel. I shall only 
stay in this countr}" long enough to see that the sufferers by my 
unfortunate father's defalcations are indemnified to the best of my 
ability. That reminds me, I heard from Mr. Fellows this morn- 
ing. He and Lee will be here to-day. He has succeeded in 
overcoming Lee's prejudices against accepting a pardon ; and, 
Mrs. Tenniel, I am going to ask you and Mr. Fellows to act as 
hosts here until I can make the needful arrangements for your 
return to your own home. 

Mrs. Tenniel, But, Richard, you are not going to-day, 
surely ? 

Richard. Yes, Mrs. Tenniel, at least, I shall leave this house 
to-day. You can readily understand how painful it will be for 
me to be constantly in the society of one whom I feel has been 
so irreparably injired by {flere his etnotion chokes him.) 

{Enter Daisy and Mr. fellows. Richard turns toward them in 



ACT v.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 69 

silence, and Fellows extending his right hand to Mrs, Tenniel, 
grasps Richard's with his left.) 

Mrs. Tenniel. You see our patient is improving {looking at 
Richard). 

Mr. Fellows. That's right ; though I can't say he looks very 
hearty yet. But wait till we cheer him up a bit. By the way, my 
young idiot concluded to accept the inevitable, and I brought 
him with me. In spite of your kind letter, however, he preferred 
not to accompany me here, fearing that — that, at least he 

thought . 

Richard. I understand, and appreciate his thoughtfulness ; 
but I want to see him here once {touches indicator for servant), 
so please send him word he is to make his home here. I under- 
stand from my partner, the citizens of Eldridge propose giving 
him a public reception, and in some more substantial way, trying 
to make amends to him for what he has had to suffer. 
{Enter servant.) 

Fellows {writing on a card). There— there, he's all right now ; 
he'll get over it as soon as a certain young lady has welcomed 
him. But then, I'm very glad of this public reception. {Giving 
card to servant) For Mr. Lee at the Windsor. 

Mrs. Tenniel {who has been conversing apart with Daisy, 
moves to center and addresses the gentlemen). Well, gentlemen, if 
you will excuse me, I will go to Helen and tell her of your re- 
turn, {addressitig Mr. Fellows). Of course, the dear child will 
feel a little agitated. 

Fellows. Certainly, certainly. Give her my love, and tell 
her I have most unselfishly brought back a successful rival. 
{Exit Mrs. Tenniel, bozuing.) 

Fellows. Where's my little Daisy ? Ah ! Daisy, you and I 
are going to be left out in the cold, are we not ? Your faithless 
swain gone, and Helen restored to her lover ; and, upon my word, 
you do not look very gay, little woman. 

Daisy. Oh, yes, I am as gay as ever. I have been mourning 
your absence, Uncle Dick, that's all. You're the only beau I have 
left, and I appreciate you, I assure you. 

Richard. I want, before Lee arrives, to tell you both something 
that it may please you to communicate to him, and which you 
will gratify me much by telling him for me. I need hardly tell you 
how much Lee's sufferings have filled my thoughts since I knew how 
they had been caused. I wish you to tell him, please, what I 
cannot express to him myself— how anxious I have been to make 
him some reparation for all he has endured. Of course, I know 
I never can do so adequately ; but I have seen Morgan, who be- 
came my father's partner after Mr. Tenniel's death, and have ar- 
ranged to have my father's interests in the bank transferred to 
Lee, who will thus become a partner in the concern he served so 
long and faithfully. It will, at least, remove any hesitation he 
might have in asking Helen to be his wife, and — . 
{Daisy averts her face to hide her emotion^ and — .) 



SCENE v.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 7I 

« 

Fellows {after statnping and sputtering and clearing his throat 
vociferously, and seizing Richard's hand). Richard, dear boy, if 
I had not known your mother, who was an angel, if ever there 
was one, I should never have believed there was as good a fellow 
as yourself. {Servant enters with Lee's card, which he passes to 
Richard.) 

Richard {sHll holding Fellows' hand). Show him up here ? 
Daisy, will you not go and receive Edward and bring him here ? 

Daisy. Certainly; with great pleasure. {Exit.) 

Richard. I don't wish to appear to run away from Lee, but 
you will understand that I would rather not be here. 

Fellows. Certainly ! certainly ! Between you and me, my 
dear boy, I am almost sorry she did not prefer you. 

Richard {smilijig). No, no ; it is not that. Were Helen 
Tenniel heart-free to-day, there would be nothing between us, 
but I confess I should feel less at my ease with Lee than any one 
else. 

{Entet Daisy and Lee. ) 

Lee {approaching Richard with much feeling). My dear Rich- 
ard {pause — seizes his hand warmly), how can I thank you for 
your kind welcome, and now — what Daisy tells me — indeed you 
have placed me under such obligations. 

Richard. Daisy should not be telling tales yet. You must 
not talk to me of obligations. I can not say what I feel, Edward. 
You must try to give me credit for what is left unsaid. I shall 
have to leave you to-day, but I wanted particularly to bid you 
welcome, and it is / should thank you for giving me the oppor- 
tunity to do so. I want to assure you of one thing more : you 
have no rival for Helen Tenniel's love ; and before I leave you 
must accept my cordial good wishes for your and her future 
happiness. 

Lee. No rival, did I have one, would have aught to fear from 
me. I shall never ask Helen Tenniel to be the wife oi o. pardoned 
criminal. 

All. What! 

Fellows {furiously). You're a young fraud ! A trifler, sir ! 

A d d ungrateful young dog. What do you suppose I got you 

out of jail for ; eh ! Answer me that. 

Edward. My dear Mr. Fellows — 

Fellows. Damn it, don't interrupt me, sir. I propo-e to 
have my say. Did I not invent the infernal thing that saved you 
from a life in jail. Do you suppose I did it for you, you young 
scamp? No, sir. It was for that dear, good girl, whom you 
propose now to trifle with. 

Lee. Trifle ! I can assure you — 

Daisy. Really, Edward, you do try your friends' patience. 
I agree with Uncle Dick. You are most ungrateful. If it had 
not been for me, I should like to know how you and Helen would 
ever have managed. I declare / have no patience with you. 
Upon my word, I wish you were back in the penitentiary. 



ACT v.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 73 

Lee. Well, Richard, have you got no abuse for me. 

Richard. No, Edward, no abuse. I think I can understand 
your feeling, but I am sure you will not have been among your 
friends very long without realizing that no stigma whatever at- 
taches to you. God knows I hope so. If I supposed you had 
anything yet to suffer from this, it would — 

Edward Lee. And I would not, I assure you, have you 
suffer more than you have done, Richard. It was on your account 
I accepted my pardon {bitterly). Pardon for an offence I never 
committed. But to think of Helen as the wife of a man who, 
after all, is only a pardoned criminal. I cannot do it. I love her 
too dearly. 

Daisy [earnestly). Ah, Edward, no man can realize the depth 
of a woman's love {Glancing towards Richard ti??iidl\). Don't 
you know that the more a man has to sufter, the more determined 
is the woman who truly loves him to suffer everything with him. 
{During these words, Richard 's eyes are riveted on Daisy, whose 
oiun eyes drop as they meet his gaze and she finishes them address- 
ing herself pointedly to Lee. As she concludes, Richard pauses a 
moment, then, with a sigh^ turns towards Lee.) 

Fellows. Bravo ! Daisy ! {Applauds her.) 

Lee. I confess I am hardly prepared for such an onslaught. 

Richard {going up to Lee and laying his hand persuasively on 
his shoulder) My dear Lee, it is not / who should combat your 
scruples — scruples imposed upon you as the result of my own 
father's — 

Lee. Nay, Richard, do not — 

Richard. Please hear me. In all the bitterness of this terrible 
blow, I have had one consoling thought — that Helen's happiness, 
for which I had already sacrificed so much, would be assured. 
In truth, if her future life is to be blighted, my last consolation 
will be taken away — but in all unselfishness, Edward, I think I 
could draw yon a picture of future happiness that your heart and 
mind, tried by the terrible ordeal of the last two years, could not 
resist — the picture of a sweet little home, in which should reign 
a still sweeter wife, consecrating her life to your happiness, sur- 
rounding you with the gentle chains of a love that binds your 
heart to hers — who should find her greatest happiness in obliter- 
ating from your mind the remembrance of past suffering, in heal- 
ing the old wounds — {feelingly). Ah ! man, who could see such a 
picture before his eyes, and allow any obstacle to prevent its 
realization ? 

Lee. I confess I can not — you have prevailed. Daisy, forgive 
my non-appreciation of the depth of a woman's love. Uncle 
Dick, I yield — but where is Helen ? 

Richard. Her mother left us just now, to apprise her of your 
arrival, and if you will excuse us — I have some business to talk 
over with Uncle Dick — 

Fellows. I am always at your service, dear boy — and {to Lee) 
as for you — I shall not feel quite satisfied till I see you once more 



SCENE v.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 



75 



in bonds — in the holy bonds of matrimony. Ha ! ha that's not 
so bad, egad — {exit with Richard?^ 

Daisy. So once more I suppose I shall have to be your good 
angel, and bring Helen to you, as in days gone by. Heigh ho ! 

Lee. Daisy, what's the matter ? A sigh from you? — you do 
not look happy — 

Daisy. Don't I look as rejoiced at your return as you think I 
should, Mr. Egotist? In truth, I am mourning poor Helen's fate. 
I always thought she was too good for you. Won't I tell her, 
though, how her precious Edward was ready to throw her 
overboard. 

Lee. Daisy, dear Daisy — I beg — I entreat — {Helen appeats at 
the door. A 7?io?nenf s pause .) 

Helen. Edward ! / / c- 7^ j \ 

Lee. Helen! \ {Simultaneously) 

{Edward 7 ushes forward, Helen meets him Joyously, and in an- 
other monient^ is folded to his bosom.) 

Lee. My precious, noble girl ! 

Helen. Oh ! Edward, how you have suffered ! 

Lee. Only to make me the more happy in your love, my 
darling. 

Daisy. Ahem ! And yet this is the man who, but a few min- 
utes ago had to be persuaded — 

Lee {reproachfully). Daisy ! 

Helen. Never mind, Edward, no one can make me doubt 
you. I fear Daisy is growing cynical. Since Jack Frost left she 
has quite changed. 

Lee. I once thought from one of your letters that Daisy had 
set her cap at that noble fellow, Richard. 

Daisy {with contempt). Impertinence ! 

Lee. Ah ! but you blush all the same. Now I understand 
what Richard meant when he said I had no rival in your love 
{to Helen) and what inspired his eloquent picture of domestic 
bliss. 

Daisy. Oh, Helen ! {pitifully and earnestly.) How could 
you? Have I not been mortified enough without this ? 

{Enter Mrs. Tenniel.) 

Mrs. Tenniel. Ah ! my dear Edward, how thankful I am to 
see you once more among us — one of ourselves as you used to be 
— {she puts her handkerchief to her eyes and touches his cheek with 
her lips) after all you have suffered, We have indeed, much to 
be thankful for. Accept my earnest congratulations. 

Lee. Thank you, Mrs. Tenniel, I certainly deserve them. I 
suppose you know how thoughtfully Richard has cared for my 
future. 

Mrs. Tenniel. No. Indeed ! 

Helen. No, dear, tell us about it. 

Lee. Indeed, I can hardly command myself to speak of it. 
He has secured to me his father's interest in the bank. 

Daisy. And this, ladies, is Mr. Lee, of Morgan & Lee. 



ACT v.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. 77 

Helen. Dear, good, generous Richard. Oh ! how nobly he 
has acted all through this dreadful business. 

Mrs. Tenniel. Most nobly, indeed. 

Lee. And now, Mrs. Tenniel, you will not withhold your con- 
sent {taking Helen's hand and drawing it through his arm caress- 
ingly), 

Mrs. Tenniel {graciously). No, indeed, my dear children. 

Fellows {without). I tell you / tvon't hear of it. {Enter Fel- 
lows with his arm passed through Richard's.) I'll be hanged if I 
can stand it, and I won't {addressing the rest). Here's another 
fool on my hands ; bound, he says, to leave his home and country; 
to leave his best friends, whose love and solicitude should help to 
comfort him in his trial and sorrow, so that he can get away 
where he can be comfortably lonely and miserable, I vow it's 
too unreasonable ! I was bound you should all have a chance to 
protest. {He leads Richard to right of center and to left of Daisy ^ 
Fellows being on Richard's left, next to him Mrs. Tenniel, and 
next to her Lee, with Helen to his left. While Fellows speaks, 
Daisy looks toward him earnestly until he refers to Richard's being 
alone, when she turns away. As he concludes, Helen crosses to 
Richard and takes both his hands in hers.) 

Helen. Richard, you have done so much for us all, can you 
refuse us the happiness of doing what we can for you? Will you 
not leave us a single opportunity to retrieve ourselves of all our 
obligations to you ? There is not one here who does not long to 
serve you — to comfort you. God knows I can never adequately 
thank you for all you have done and borne for me. {She raises 
his hands to her lips and kisses them.) Richard, dear friend, you, 
who are so unselfish, will you not think of others — of one other, 
perhaps, who would love to devote her life to your happiness ? 
{Daisy darts a quick reproachful glance at Helen.) 

Richard. Ah ! Helen. No woman — I never could permit 
myself to ask any woman to ally herself to such a blighted life as 
mine. 

'Et>v^ A.KT> (coming forward next to Helen). Heterodoxy! My 
dear Richard. Have you so soon forgotten the text of a sweet little 
preacher who lately converted me : " No man can realize the 
depth of a woman's love. The more a man has to suffer the 
more determined is the woman who truly loves him to suffer 
everything with him." {He glances toward Daisy, who still keeps 
her face averted, by a great effort maintaining her self -control. In 
the meantime Mr. Fellows has moved round to extreme right, where 
he stands with beaming countenance, and every evidence of joy at 
having left Richard in good hands ^ Can you resist the picture 
of a sweet little home in which should reign a still sweeter wife, 
consecrating her life to your happiness, surrounding you with the 
gentle chains of a love that binds your heart to her. Who should 
find her greatest happiness in obliterating from your mind the 
remembrance of past suffering, in healing the old wounds. Ah ! 



i 



i 



SCENE v.] THE PHONOGRAPH WITNESS. Jg 

man ! "Who could see such a picture before his eyes and allow 
any obstacle to prevent its realization? 

Fellows. Bravo! Well done, Edward. (I/e looks down at 
Daisy, who is almost overivhelmed by her emotion, but strtigf^les 
hard to control herself , and puts his hand kindly under her chin, 
trying to raise her face up to his,) 

Richard. Indeed, /could not if I thought any woman could 
ever bring herself to love me as Helen loves you. 

Fellows {who has succeeded in raising Daisy's face and sees it 
suffused with tears). Hey day ! What's the matter here? Our 
little Daisy in tears ? 

{Daisy can not control herself any longer and throws herself on 
his bosom, weeping passionately^ . 

Fellows. What's the matter, little one ? Won't you tell your 
Uncle Dick ? What are you crying for? Come out with it, little 
woman. 

Daisy {sobbing hysterically). Be — be — be — cause men a — 
are so stupid ! 

Helen. Oh, Richard ! Richard! Are you blind ? 

Richard. Daisy, dearest Daisy, can it be possible? Could 
you really ? Oh ! if I only felt that you could love me ! that I 
could make you happy. 

{Mr. Felloivs raises Daisy and turns her toward him, and their 
eyes meet. Richard opens his arms and folds her to his heart. Mr. 
Fellows splutters and chokes, and finally ejaculates, addressing 
Richard). Never mind, my boy, I was as blind as yourself. I 
never guessed — 

Daisy {archly). Just as I told you. Men are so stupid. 

Helen. And no man can realize the depth of a woman's love. 

THE END. 



LIBRPRY OF CONGRESS 

!iii mil Hill III 



016 103 647 n 



